


In the language of flowers

by sgtbaarnes (Thighz)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Angst, Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racism, Slow Burn, also very brief, very brief - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9524000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighz/pseuds/sgtbaarnes
Summary: If there was one thing Jack Morrison's mother taught him, it was that being a good neighbor meant everything. It put you in the good graces of the people you may need to rely on if an emergency ever arose. It was a good lesson, but the fact remained that when a new family would move in five miles down the road from their farm, Jack had to haul all the casserole dishes around.So he simplified the neighborly duties to peanut butter cookies.In which Jack owns a flower shop and makes bomb cookies and Gabriel is a veteran wading in the consequences of his past.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the flower shop AU that no one wanted. 
> 
> (or maybe you do want it?)
> 
> Any who, this was going to be a short thing and it ended up a long thing. Probably 3 to 5 chapters so buckle up and enjoy the ride.
> 
>  
> 
> **[8/30/2018 Update: This fic has been officially Beta'd and edited! Some things have changed, very small, and I've adjusted a good portion of it to fit my current writing style. (It has been over a year after all!) I want to humbly thank everyone who has read, shared, commented, or gushed about this fic. Words can't describe how thankful I am.]**

 

 

**One**

 

 

 

 

 

If there was one thing Jack Morrison's mother taught him; it was that being a good neighbor meant everything. It put you in the good graces of the people you may need to rely on if an emergency ever arose. It was a good lesson, but the fact remained that when a new family would move in five miles down the road from their farm Jack had to haul all the casserole dishes around. 

So he simplified the neighborly duties to peanut butter cookies. 

His entire apartment smelt of gooey, melted peanuts and it was glorious. He can hear Lena in the living room, arranging his new furniture and humming some trendy pop song. Angela was hanging his shower curtain up in the bathroom. 

Jack is elbow deep in flour and eggs and cookie dough. The first batch cooling on a rack by the stove and as he rolls out the next set. 

“You’re going to be a dream come true to some lucky person.” Lena sighs dreamily as she leaps through the kitchen doorway and falls into one of the chairs at the table. 

“I doubt my baking skills are that good.” Jack replies sheepishly. 

“Are you kidding me?” Lena throws her arms out, “Your cookies are equal to orgasms!”

Angela sweeps in carrying a basket of towels and sets it on the table, “You should open a bakery.”

Jack wrinkles his nose, “I only know how to make these. I can’t open a bakery and only sell peanut butter cookies.”

“There are entire franchises that only sell chicken, Jack.” Lena snorts. 

He shrugs, “I’ll be too busy with my  _ actual _ shop. You know. The one I just started.” 

“Of course.” Lena grins, “The beautiful blonde man running the flower shop across the street.” 

“How did you get an apartment so close?” Angela asks, beginning the folding of his towels. She’s slow and methodical with it, just as she in her professional life. 

The three of them enjoy the silence as Jack sets the last pan of cookies into the oven. Lena flicks away on her phone while Jack washes his hands in the sink and Angela sets the folded towels back into the basket before disappearing in the direction of the bathroom.

“Have you met any of your neighbors?” Lena asks.

Jack shakes his head, “No, not yet.”

“Well, if your cookies don’t win them over then it’s a lost cause.” She shrugs, “But I gotta dash, love. Work in an hour.” She flits over to where he is at the sink cleaning out the bowls and plants a kiss on his cheek. 

“Bye Lena.” He leans into the kiss and she’s out the door with a hearty wave and a wink. 

“Moves too fast, that one.” Angela laughs softly, bare feet taking her to where her shoes are by the doorway that leads into the foyer. “I have a shift tonight as well. Be sure to text me once your thrilling neighborhood walkthrough is done.” 

Jack roll his eyes, “Of course. Thanks for the help, Ang.” 

She pats his arm and he hears the click of his door closing again. 

He relaxes slightly at the silence that greets him and leaves the kitchen in favor of finding clothes that aren’t covered in peanut butter and flour. He snatches a blue shirt from his dresser, sending Angela another thank you for putting all of his clothes away. He checks his face in the mirror of his bathroom, rubbing away a streak of flour from his chin. 

He hears the oven beep twice, signaling the completion of his second batch of cookies. 

Twenty minutes later he has a stack of wrapped cookies to bring to the three other tenants on his floor. There are two across the hall from his, divided by the stairs and an elevator on the far left. 

He starts with 201, knocks once and waits. A very irritated japanese man opens the door, black hair tied back with a red bandana. He’s topless, revealing a very intricate dragon tattoo on his left shoulder and arm. 

“Yes?”

Jack hold out the cookies, “I just moved in across the hall. I made cookies.” 

The man stares at them for a moment and seems to straighten suddenly, “My apologies. I am not accustomed to american traditions.”

“I’m as american as they come, darlin’.” Another man’s voice replies with a booming laugh from inside the apartment.

The man rub his temples, “Jesse, our new neighbor has an offering of cookies.”

There’s the scrambling of feet and a brown-haired man with a full on beard and cowboy hat appears behind the japanese man. “What kinda cookies?”

“Peanut butter.” Jack grins. 

“Hell yea.” Jesse snatches them up quickly and unwraps one, shoving it into his mouth, “Damn. Have one Hanzo.” He hands one to the other man.

Hanzo wrinkles his nose, “I mean no offense, but I am not one for sugar.”

“More for me.” Jesse says around a mouthful  of cookie, “Name’s Jesse Mccree. This is my-.” He glances down at Hanzo.

Hanzo roll his eyes, “Just say it.”

Jesse grins, “ _ Boyfriend _ , Hanzo.” 

“I’m Jack.” Jack replies, “Nice to meet you, I’m in 204 if you ever need anything.”

“Awesome.” Jesse grins, “Good luck with Reyes and Fareeha.” He shuts the door with a soft click and Jack can hear them talking quietly behind the door as they move further into the apartment. 

He smiles and moves to 202, but there is no answer, so he walks to 203.

There’s shuffling from behind the door, an angry curse, and the sound of someone tripping and bringing something down with them. He makes an abortive move forward, but with the door in the way, he can’t help. 

“ _ Damn it! _ ” A voice snarls and before Jack can slowly back away from whoevers wrath is about to open the door. It swings open violently. 

“What the fuck do you want?”

Jack nearly drops the cookies. 

The man before him is angry, lethally so, with biceps stretching out a black hoodie. There’s a beanie covering his head and a perfectly trimmed beard around his mouth and up his jawline. He’s almost too good-looking and it makes Jack’s mouth water.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He says, “I brought….uh...cookies.”

“Look, dumbass _. _ ” The man points at him, “Rules for this floor: Don’t fucking bother me.” The door slams shut, leaving Jack a confused, aroused mess in the hallway. 

He tries to stifle his disappointment and is turning to go back to his own apartment to lick his wounds when the door opens back up.

“I will take the cookies though.” The man, who Jack is going to assume is the one Jesse referred to as ‘Reyes’, puts a hand out. 

Jack almost doesn’t want to give them up, but he hands them over hesitantly, “Names Jack Morrison.” 

The dark-skinned man takes the cookies, fingers brushing against Jack’s hand, “Gabriel Reyes.” 

“Sorry to bother you.” Jack mumbles and rushes back to his apartment before the angry man can cuss him out some more.

He shuts his door quickly and bashes his head back against the hardwood. 

So much for his mother's lessons in hospitality. 

****  
  


\---

****  
  
  


Of course the cookies are fucking delicious.

Gabriel is halfway finished with his third one by the time he’s even gotten into the kitchen to pour a glass of milk. He takes his cup and cookies back into the living room, ignoring the shattered glass of water he knocked over in his haste to answer the door. 

His apartment is a mess, clothes strewn everywhere, his work clothes piled high outside the bathroom. 

Gabriel hates it. 

He settles onto his couch, a spanish soap opera on his TV. 

The fourth cookie is just as orgasmic as the first three and he closes his eyes at the taste. He conjures up the image of his new neighbor, sunshine blonde hair, bright blue eyes, biceps for days. He already knew who Jack Morrison was before he moved in. His job was literally created to find shit out about people, so background checking his neighbors was easy. 

Turns out, golden boy moved from ass backwards Indiana to open a  _ flower  _ shop of all things. He has two friends from his college days, both of whom he could hear talking to Jack through the thin ass walls of this complex. 

He should have known that country boy charm would place him at every single door on their floor. 

Cookies of all fucking things.

Gabriel polishes off the sixth one with a heavy sip of milk. 

He was kind of hoping Jack was going to be ugly or old or both. But  _ no _ , he was young and gorgeous and golden at Gabe’s door holding out cookies and Gabe had given him the shittiest treatment imaginable. He’s pretty sure Mccree and Shimada gave him a better welcome than Gabriel did and Hanzo almost always has a permanent frown on his face.

He tips his head back against the couch and closes his eyes. The tv show is a low lull of sound across the room and he wonders if he could fall asleep like this, full of cookies and milk and images of the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. 

He knows it’s a lie. He never sleeps. 

No amount of medicine or therapy or yoga helped. Ana had suggested getting laid, but in the end, that didn’t exhaust him either. He just sent the poor man out at three am and told him not to come back. 

Probably had a lot to do with the fact that when Gabriel did sleep, everything he dreamed about woke him up anyway. The gunfire and the blood seeping through his fingers, screams and hands gripping tight to his arms. 

He opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling, wishing he had more cookies, wishing he knew how to  _ sleep. _

It never comes.

****  
  


\---

****  
  
  


Jack spends his first two weeks setting the shop up, putting orders in for certain breeds of flowers, and dropping his business cards at wedding venues. 

He visits the local flower market the Tuesday before he opens with Angela at his side. She’s cooing at the many colors of roses while he contemplates what version of carnations would be good to highlight at the front counter.

It takes two hours of searching, handing over his credit card, and haggling before they are finally back at the shop with at least ten slips of delivery orders. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t hire someone to help you?” Angela asks not for the first time as she sets up the corsage display case on the front counter. 

“When I can afford to, yes.” Jack answers, scowling down at an arrangement of daisies. 

“Don’t set them on fire.” Angela snorts, placing her last box in the cooler. 

“I’m just worried this isn’t going to work.” Jack mutters, “That this is going to be an epic waste of my savings.”

“So?” Angela shrugs, “At least you got out of dodge, did something besides what your dad wanted you to do.” 

Jack groans, “I know how to survive on a farm. This place is a pit of despair.”

Angela laughs, “Still can’t get your hot neighbor to talk to you huh?”

Jack sets his forehead on the counter, “He’s so good looking. He just waltzes up the stairs with his stupid hoodie and his earphones in and he doesn’t even acknowledge me.”

“Oh no.” Angela gasps dramatically, “You mean the world doesn’t revolve around Jack Morrison?”

“Ha ha.” He grumbles, the sound muffled by the countertop and his arms.

“He’s probably not into dudes, Jackie. Give it up and move on.” 

Yea. It’s a good idea. It’s a really good idea, up until it isn’t. 

Three am rolls around and a loud smash jerks Jack out of a deep sleep. 

He sits up in his bed, eyes darting around the room to find where the noise was coming from. A weaker smash erupts from behind him and he twists in his bed to stare at the wall behind his headboard. 

A muffled ‘ _ fuck _ ’ comes from beyond the wall and Jack flushes for a second at the implications of the muffled curse word and  _ wall smashing _ . Except it doesn’t happen again and the word just gets weaker and wetter as it’s repeated. 

“Gabriel?” He tries. 

There’s no response, just the muffled creak of a bed and the slamming of a door. Jack falls back into his pillows and sighs. He attempts to motivate himself to get out of bed and go next door to check on the man, but his well meaning concern might piss Reyes off. 

So he rolls over and tries to go back to sleep.

****  
  
  


\--

****  
  
  


His first day open is a madhouse of people. 

It’s mostly new customers coming in to buy flowers for loved ones, birthday forgetfulness, and shockingly: two wedding appointments. 

Jack’s beaming by five o'clock when he starts to shut the store down for the day. Lena comes sailing through the door, backpack slung over her shoulder and grinning from ear to ear.

“Great day, flower boy?”

“The best.” Jack sighs happily, locking his register up for the evening. 

“We still on for pizza and wine night?” She leans against the counter, “I’m fixing to go to the store, I’ll get wine, you get pizza?”

He nods, “Yea. Is Angela coming?”

She shakes her head, “Two women went into early labor this afternoon, so she has to take the graveyard.”

Jack winces, “The life of an OB.”

“She loves it.” Lena rolls her eyes, “Your place in an hour?”

“Yep.”

She leaves her backpack up against the counter and hurries back out of his store, the bell jingling in her wake. Jack finishes up his count for the evening, grabs her pack, and shuts the store down.

He’s locking the door when he spots Gabriel walking into the complexes front foyer. He crosses the street and enters through the glass doors, just as Gabe is unlocking his mailbox. Jack does the same, quietly, and heads for the stairs before Reyes is even done.

He’s halfway up the stairs when Lena dashes past him, bottle of wine in each hand and laughing. “Didja order the pizza?”

“Not yet.” Jack sighs, “How are you so fast?” 

“Practice.” Lena reaches the top of the stairs and waits, “Was that tall, dark, and gorgeous down at the mailbox?”

Jack sends her a glare, “Don’t start.”

He unlocks the door to his apartment and Lena zips past him. He glances back as Gabriel walks to his own apartment door. Dark eyes meet his across the short expanse of space between them. 

It’s dizzying the amount of focus Gabe gives in a few short seconds. He looks away and disappears inside of his apartment. 

Jack groans and beats his head lightly against the doorframe. 

****  
  
  


\--

****  
  
  


“Sulking will get you nowhere.” Amelie snorts from the kitchen. 

Gabriel can’t see her, but he knows she’s cleaning his mess and grumbling in french where he can’t hear it. 

“I’m not sulking.” 

“Yes you are.” She replies, a clatter of dishes following, “It’s been a month. Just say hi and ask him if he wants to fuck.”

Gabriel scowls at his coffee table, arms hanging over his knees. The cuffs of his hoodie are starting to fray, he should probably buy a new one, but he won’t. He looks up to stare at his bedroom door, where he knows the wall is the only separation between his bed and Jack’s. 

Jack, whose soft, quiet call of his name came through weeks ago after the fallout of another nightmare. 

The ‘fallout’ being a large dent in his wall that the landlord refuses to fix. Can’t blame him though; Gabe put it there himself. 

Amelie comes in from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel, wearing a dark purple dress. She looks killer, as always, and he wonders if she’s going to convince him to go out for the evening.

“Come out with us. Even Ana will be there.” She says right on the money.

He shrugs, “I guess.”

“You can’t sulk in here forever.” 

“I’m not sulking.” He says the words carefully, keeping his anger banked, “If I wanted help with the depression, I’d get help.”

“Oh. So the sulking isn’t about your neighbor?” She asks innocently. 

His shoulders tense at the accusation and the sneaky, round about way she gets his real problems out. He turns his head to her slowly, “I’ll go out under one condition.”

“Name it.” She tosses the rag back into the kitchen. 

“Do not let me take anyone home.” He points a finger at her, “I don’t need another repeat of ‘ _ you should get laid Gabe _ ’ and I bring some random drunk ass home and I can’t get it up because I’m a fucking disaster of a human being.”

She smiles softly, “Of course,  _ mon cher _ .”

An hour later he’s in a booth with Ana on one side, who's flirting with a blonde man sporting a fabulous beard. Amelie is off fetching drinks. 

Gabe stares down into his half empty glass. The bar is crowded for a friday night, overly so, and his skin itches to get out. 

He needs his apartment. 

But his apartment comes with the anxiety of running into his neighbor. 

He chugs the rest of his drink. His  _ neighbor _ . Fuck, he wanted Jack to be the exact opposite of what he presented. 

Gabriel wanted him to be arrogant and rude, despite the cookies and the soft smiles and the ‘good mornings’ to people in the lobby. Jack was kind and generous and he had  _ wine _ nights with the blonde and brunette women on Wednesdays. 

He doesn’t greet Gabe though. He keeps his distance and skirts around him near the mailboxes, almost as if he’s afraid he’ll get bitten. 

Why shouldn’t he think that? 

Gabe presses a hand to his forehead,  _ you practically told him to leave you the fuck alone on day one. _

“You’re in another world.” Ana says, mouth at the rim of her glass. Her companion is gone for now. 

“Thinking.” Gabe mutters.

Ana clears her throat, “Amelie says your depression has reached the ‘ _ not even cleaning his fucking house _ ’ stage.” 

He huffs, “I’m trying.”

“I’m not saying you aren’t.” She mutters, “I’m asking you to speak up if it gets overwhelming. I can clean without hurling french insults at you.”

He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, “I don’t need a caretaker, Ana.”

“No.” She whispers, “But you need someone.”

****  
  
  


\--

****  
  
  
  


Jack decides at three am Saturday morning that he needs to do  _ something _ . 

The scream that rips him from his sleep is both terrifying and upsetting. He can hear the strong gulps of air from the other side of the wall, the muttered curses, and the wet pleads of ‘ _ why won’t it stop _ ’. 

Jack’s heart breaks and he bumps his head back against the headboard. 

He pulls his phone from the side table and texts Angela to stop by the flower market on her way to his shop. 

He doesn’t get much sleep after that. Instead, he listens to Gabriel in the room behind him, pacing and grumbling and eventually moving to another room. 

By seven, Jack is opening the doors to his shop dressed in a pink t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Angela is already inside, cell phone to her ear as she points to the fist full of geraniums in a vase on the counter. He puts five fingers up and she nods. 

He takes the vase back to his complex and sets it in front of Gabriel’s door. 

Jack hesitates with his fist poised to knock, unsure if this will come off creepy. He glances down at the flowers with dawning horror:  _ of course it will you moron. _

The door opens with his hand still hovering and Gabriel stares at him with a look of confused shock on his face. 

His hood is up over his head, but the jacket is unzipped, revealing a grey gym shirt and shorts. Gabe pulls the headphones out of his ears one at a time and looks down at the vase Jack set on the floor.

“What’s with the weird purple flowers?” He grunts.

Jack coughs, “Geraniums.” 

Gabe’s brown furrows, “The fuck is a geranium?”

Jack scratches the back of his head, “This is going to sound really creepy, but I was leaving them for you as a -.” He trails off, unsure. 

Gabriel bends down to pick them up, examining them for a moment before meeting Jack’s panicked gaze. “Of course you’re the type to give  _ flowers _ . Cookies wasn’t enough?”

“Well, to be fair, I own a flower  _ shop _ .” Jack points in the general direction through the walls, “I sell them for a living.”

“But you don’t have these.” Gabe mutters, then seems to catch himself and stutter out, “I mean. I haven’t seen them through the window.” He closes his eyes in shame, “Now _ I _ sound creepy.”

Jack laughs softly, “I don’t keep them. They aren’t easy to put in arrangements because of how quickly they wilt.” He points at them, “But all flowers have certain meanings and I figured it would be a good way to cheer you up.”

Gabe frowns, “You think I need cheering up?”

Jack takes a risk, “I  _ know _ you do.” He checks his watch, “Crap. I gotta go, I left my friend by herself and it’s a madhouse on Saturdays.” He gives a wave and leaves Gabriel standing in his doorway. 

Angela is handling the store just fine when he arrives. Her smile is downright jovial as he quickly puts on an apron and moves handle to the wedding arrangement. 

It takes an hour between the two of them and the groom's family picks up the arrangement without a hitch. 

By three, the two of them are exhausted and Jack insists Angela go home.

“We still have two hours.” She shakes her head as he pushes her across the room to the front door, “I can still help.”

“You have a shift tomorrow night. You will go home and rest.” He insists, handing her the bag she came in with. 

She grins over at him, blonde hair messy around her face, “You sure you’ll be fine?”

He nods, “Yes. Now,  _ go. _ ”

She takes the bag and heads for the bus stop a little ways away, waving back at him as he retreats into the shop. 

He has a small trickle of customers during the last two hours, so he spends it straightening up and locking everything down for his day off. 

The entire shop is a mess of stems and petals and he stays after closing to sweep it all up. 

Jack checks the clock when he’s done and notes that it’s well past 6. He groans, grabbing his cellphone from behind the counter and locking the store up for the night. 

He’s standing in the foyer, flipping through his mail when Hanzo joins him at the mailbox. Jack notes a bright colored photo within his white envelopes and pulls it out. It’s a picture of an asian man with bright green hair, arm thrown around a bald, blue-eyed man in traditional monk robes. His brow furrows at the picture and flips it over.

_ Nepal is beautiful, brother! Hope you and Jesse are doing okay. _

Jesse? 

Oh.

Jack glances up at Hanzo, who seems to be staring hard inside his empty mailbox. Jack waves the photo in his direction, “This must be yours.”

Hanzo glances over and something akin to relief floods his face as he reaches out to take the picture from Jack’s fingers. A fond smile tugs at the corner of Hanzo’s mouth as he scans it, “Thank you.”

“Happen a lot?” Jack asks.

Hanzo rolls his eyes, “My brother is terrible with addresses.”

Jack shrugs, “At least he got the complex right.”

“Indeed.” Hanzo nods, “Should he send anything else your way, simply come to our door.”

“Sure thing.” Jack nods.

He leaves Hanzo to his photo as he heads up to his apartment, body tired and ready for leftover pizza and maybe the discovery channel. 

There’s a dark-haired woman leaning against the wall beside his door as he rises to the top of their staircase.

“Can I help you?” He asks hesitantly, taking out his keys.

She glances up from her phone, eyes dark, skin caramel-colored and smooth, “Are you Jack?”

“Yes.” He replies.

“Ana.” She puts a hand out between them, “My daughter, Fareeha, lives in 202.” 

“Oh!” Jack fumbles to return the handshake, “I haven’t met her yet. She’s currently abroad?”

Ana chuckles, “That she is, but I am here for another matter.” She pulls a wilted geranium from her pants pocket, “Gabriel brought these to work today. Are they from you?”

Jack winces, “Yes.”

She pets the purple petals gently, “Geraniums mean ‘comfort’, do they not?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She groans playfully, “Don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that much older than you.” She stares at him and it’s unnerving, like she can hear everything he’s thinking, “You are a bright young man, Jack. You did this with intention.”

“I figured they might cheer him up.” Jack mutters.

“They did what they were intended, believe me.” She chuckles, “I just want to warn you to tread lightly. Gabriel is a minefield.”

“Is it that bad?” Jack whispers and the way her face twists is confirmation enough. 

“It is.” She lowers her tone as well and pats his cheek, “Good luck,  _ Habibi. _ ”

They part ways with a simple ‘good bye’ and Jack makes a beeline for pizza box in his fridge. 

He grabs a pencil and pad from his junk drawer, kicks his feet up on the couch, and gets to work.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a long one. Wow this is long. Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all AMAZING.  
> So much love and I am SO glad ya'll are as excited about this as I am.  
> I was super nervous about doing a flower AU because it's not as popular as say coffee shop or friends to lover, so THANK YOU for all the amazing comments.
> 
> Your support keeps me going and I hope you all enjoy the chapter!
> 
> (If there are any errors, always feel free to let me know. I do go back and edit as frequently as I can. I don't have a beta right now, so I read this like 15 times and I still manage to overlook them)

 

 

 

**Two**

 

 

 

 

Gabriel would be lying if he said he didn’t stare at the purple flowers for most of that day. 

Once Jack had rushed off to tend his little shop; Gabriel debated between putting them on his coffee table or tossing them into the garbage. 

He brought them to work instead. 

Ana’s eyebrows had gone so far into her hairline and Sombra’s curious gaze followed him from behind her mountain of computer equipment. 

He elected to ignore them, putting the vase on the edge of his desk and staring at them some more.

He did his job with a lighter air. He still cussed at Sombra when she hacked his computer while he ran the security checks and groaned when Ana told him to do a full sweep of the mayor’s dinner hall.

He will forever be in Ana’s debt for giving him this job. 

Head of security for Overwatch Security Plus was a big step. He was a different man now, than when Fareeha found him drunk as a skunk at the bottom of the stairs. Ana had sobered him up and offered him a job. It took him two years to get where he was.

He had kinda hoped his issues would sort themselves out and they hadn’t. 

The flowers threw him off his game though. They were bright ass purple and sitting on his desk, clashing with the minimal decor of his office. 

Ana had been overly curious, hovering at his door and asking who gave them, where they came from, etc.

He caved after two hours of interrogation. 

Now, he sat on his couch, with about an hour of sleep under his belt, wondering why the fuck his neighbor was giving him flowers in the first place. As far as he can tell, Jesse and Hanzo haven’t gotten any flowers and Fareeha is in Dubai, so that’s a no go. 

He pulls his cellphone up, searching the name of the flower. Ger-something or another.

Geranium. 

It gives him a picture and a basic rundown of the flower itself. All useless. He grunts and almost tosses his phone away to get ready for work when an article catches his eye. 

_ The language of flowers _

_ Geranium - Comfort _

Gabriel can feel the bile rising to his throat. 

He hates that it’s the reaction he has for someone giving him flowers, but fuck. He sets his phone aside and presses his hands to his face. He feels ashamed. His entire body flushes with it, because Jack has been up _ listening _ to him cry out in his sleep. He’s been sitting in his bed at three or four in the morning listening to Gabriel hate his fucking existence and decided that  _ flowers _ might cheer him up.

He takes a deep breath and tries to ease the nausea away. He needs to get out. Go to work. Clear his head. 

He skips the shower and dresses quickly, snatching up his wallet and keys. 

He opens the door and there, sitting in the hallway is a simple vase full of flowers. 

These aren’t the same purple ones from the day before. These are pale pink, with wide ruffles, long stems and oval leaves. He picks the vase up carefully, cradling the glass between his rough hands.

A simple white card is tied with a purple ribbon around the neck of the vase. He flips it over and written in unfucking fairly gorgeous handwriting is the word  _ lisianthus. _

His throat tightens and he backtracks into his apartment to set the vase gently on his coffee table. He casts them one last look before he locks up, sticks his headphones in his ears and wanders down the stairs.

By the time he’s out the front doors, he already has the meaning brought up on his phone.

_ Calming. _

Gabe closes his eyes and waits for the bus.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Jack’s heart his hammering by the time he gets to his apartment at the end of the day.

He wasn’t sure if Gabriel would be receptive to another vase of weird flowers. He had spent most of Sunday night making a diagram of flowers he could give based on how bad Gabriel’s nights were. He had two notebook pages full of them and set out for the flower market at 4 am this morning to get the flowers.

“Oh you are so gone.” Lena snickers, holding his notebook as they both ascend the staircase. 

Jack is ignoring her in favor of breathing and hoping the vase isn’t smashed against the wall.

When they get to the top, the vase isn’t there and Jack lets out the breathe he was holding in. 

Lena glances between him and Gabriel’s door. “Think he kept them?” She wonders.

Jack doesn’t know. He can’t tell. 

He unlocks the door to his apartment and lets Lena walk in before him and bounce onto his couch.

“So, are you going to do this every day or just like - when the mood strikes?” She leans her head over the arm of the couch to stare at him.

Jack shrugs, “I haven’t really been thinking beyond the flowers themselves.”

She hums, flipping through the notebook and turning the TV on using her toes on the remote.

Jack rolls his eyes and heads for the kitchen, pulling out the fixings for spaghetti. 

The soft sounds of Lena watching TV in the living room and the smell of cooking meat fills the small apartment. He hears the door open thirty minutes later, Angela’s keys jingling and the sound of her toeing off her shoes in the foyer. 

“Is that spaghetti?” She asks, rounding the corner, still dressed in her purple scrubs. Her hair is loose around her shoulders and there’s a sticker that says ‘it’s a girl!’ on her stomach. 

Jack smiles, “Yep. Almost done.”

“I’ll go get Lena.” She brushes past him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before disappearing through the other door way. 

“Oh Jack.” Angela peeks back in, “I forgot to tell you that I have to pull a shift friday night, so I can’t come in Saturday.”

He sighs, “Alright. That’s fine.”

“Didn’t you just book a wedding arrangement today?” Lena joins Angela in the doorway. 

Angela groans, “Oh no.”

“It’s fine.” Jack laughs, “I’ll just pull an all-nighter. They’re picking it up at 6 am. Early morning wedding.”

“Alone?” Angela frowns, “How big is it?”

“Ang. Don’t worry about it.” Jack insists, pulling plates down from the cabinets and setting his small three seater table against the far wall. 

Lena grabs cups and takes drink requests as Angela grabs the food and starts placing it on the center mats. 

Before long they’re all digging in and exchanging work stories. Lena’s hands are wild as they move around. Angela is smiling around her fork, watching Lena’s exuberant motions while Jack stares thoughtfully at an empty vase on the counter. 

He wonders if Gabriel is home yet. If he got the flowers. If he even kept them. The woman named Ana  _ said _ the geraniums were well received, but it was hard to tell. 

_ Gabriel is a minefield. _

If his first lick of temper directed at Jack was any indication, then Gabriel was probably a very bitter individual. 

“Lena tells me you’re exploring the  _ Sprache der Blumen. _ ” Angela grins. 

Jack raises an eyebrow and turns back to face the two of them, “I hope that’s not anything sexual.”

Lena giggles, “No! It means ‘Language of flowers’.” 

“Oh.” Jack flushes, “Yes. My neighbor - he -.” He doesn’t want to tell them about the nightmares or the screaming. It’s not his business to tell. It’s private and even Jack feels he shouldn’t be allowed to know something so personal.

Angela sets a hand over his own, “Careful, _ meine liebste _ . You fall hard and you fall fast.” 

“I know.” Jack mutters, “But it’s not like that. He’s not like me.” He waves his hand, “He has a lot of pent up anger, according to my source, I just want to ease some of it.”

Angela smiles, “Only you would use flowers as a means to ease into friendship.”

Jack shrugs, “Worth a shot.”

The girls leave an hour later, arms linked together as they head down the stairs. Jack leans against the doorframe of his apartment and watches them go. 

  
  


\--

  
  
  


Gabriel’s nightmares aren’t for the faint of heart. 

He dreams in red and black, blood dripping down walls and skin, black smoke clouding his lungs like oil slick. He hears the screaming of children, the explosion of grenades. Everything blurs and fuses in a mixture of memory and imagination. 

The gun to his forehead shocks him out of the dream. He bolts up in bed and scrambles out, barely making it to the bathroom before he starts vomiting. 

He hangs over the toilet for awhile, forehead pressed to the seat and inhaling sharply to ease the burning in his chest.

It doesn’t work, nor does the water he drinks a few minutes later to try and wash away the bad aftertaste. 

Gabe’s in the middle of brushing his teeth when a soft knock on his front door causes him to glance up at the mirror. 

He looks a fucking mess. His hair is too long, curling around his ears and his bear needs another trim. He also looks like he hasn’t slept in months, which, in hindsight, is pretty accurate. 

The knock comes again, a little softer, and he growls, snatching his phone from the counter and staring at the screen. 

12:52 am.

What. The. Fuck. 

He stalks through his apartment to get to the front door, tugging on a white t-shirt and his beanie along the way. 

He isn’t expecting to see Jack standing there, grey pajama pants tied around his waist and a lime green shirt pulled tight across his chest. He’s grinning, a bag of cookies in one hand and a vase of small white flowers with red centers in the other. 

“It’s one o’clock in the  _ morning. _ ” Gabriel snarls despite the warm hum his body exudes when he spots the flowers. 

“And you’re awake. Good. I need your help.” Jack insists, “I have a wedding arrangement of orchids and roses for six in the morning and I need help.”

“I was sleeping.” Gabe tries out the lie.

Jack tilts his head and jiggles the bag between them,, “I made cookies.”

“I was  _ sleeping _ .” He tries again.

“These are cosmos.” Jack thrusts the vase at him, “I was going to leave them in the morning, but since I heard you were up -” He trails off, watching Gabe patiently, not pushing, but not relenting either.

“I’m going to move my bed if you keep eavesdropping on me.” Gabriel snaps. 

“I didn’t design the rooms.” Jack shrugs, “I really do need help. You don’t sleep, I can’t sleep. Please?”

Gabriel pinches the bridge of his nose, “Fine. Fine. Just let me grab my jacket.” He retreats back into his apartment, grabbing his phone, keys, and slipping on his hoodie. He meets Jack at the top of the stairs, hand out for the cookies. 

Jack grins and passes them over. He keeps the vase though as Gabriel follows him out the complex and across the street.

Gabriel’s never been inside the shop. 

He’s looked through the window and hovered by the corner to enjoy the smell of the flowers themselves, but he’s never gone inside. It smells even better than the outside. Cool, fragrant, and the decor is as soft as the flowers. Everything is neat along the shelves, inside the coolers, and along the counter.

Jack sets his keys and the vase of cosmos on the counter and waves Gabriel through to the back room. 

There’s an industrial sized glass cooler in the back, along with a break table, a kitchenette, and an open closet full of supplies. 

The cooler is filled almost to the brim with white and purple orchids, pale pink roses, and greenery. 

“How big is this wedding?” Gabriel grumbles.

“Pretty big.” Jack walks to the supply closet, “I don’t meant to brag, but I’m making a pretty penny. Might be able to hire someone to actually help soon.”

Gabe crosses his arms over his chest, “I thought your blonde friend was helping?”

Jack comes out with an armful of tall, slim white vases, “Oh, Angela? She helps when she can, but she’s a gynecologist. So she’s on demand most weekends.” 

Gabriel grumbles to himself as he watches Jack pull on the sweater that was resting on the break table. He looks soft and gold under the lighting in the room and Gabriel rubs his chest at the flare of  _ lust _ that erupts. 

Not the ‘ _ I want to fuck you right here and right now _ ’ lust, but the slow ‘ _ first thing in the morning, still soft from sleep _ ’ lust. He stamps it down firmly as Jack asks him to grab the rest of the vases and meet him inside the cooler.

He does as he’s told and is immediately glad he grabbed his hoodie, because the cooler is  _ freezing. _

Jack keeps the door propped open, grabbing two chairs and facing them across from each other in the center of the room. 

“Okay, so I have a picture of the arrangement she wants.” Jack pulls out his cellphone and flicks across the screen for a second before holding it up for Gabriel to see. 

The vase is different in the photo, but the flowers are arranged so the orchids droop along the outside and the roses bloom in the center. The greenery hangs like spanish moss from the edge of the vase and it’s pretty fucking impressive. 

“I had this arrangement on the counter when they came in my second day.” He says, “She took a picture and came in this week to order sixty vases.” 

Gabriel’s face blanches, “ _ Sixty?! _ ”

Jack’s laugh is low and comes straight from his chest, “Yes. Can you imagine me doing that by myself?” he shivers, “Yeesh.”

“I’d rather be in my bed.” Gabriel growls.

Jack grabs the first vase and a bucket of the flowers, “No you wouldn’t.” 

Gabriel watches him do the first arrangement. Those long, pale fingers are quick with a pair of shears, firm when something need to bend, but ever so soft as to not disturb the petals of the flowers. It’s mesmerizing to watch and he finds himself following Jack’s lead. 

They work in silence till four. 

Gabriel’s back is killing him from the chair and his fingers are raw from the stems of the roses, but they only have 20 vases left. He forgot what working in tandem and silence felt like. His job usually meant being disturbed every five minutes and constantly barking orders. He envies Jack ability to disappear to this room to do his job. 

By five, as they are finishing up, the doorbell rings and a short brunette woman enters from the front juggling three cups of coffee. 

Gabriel recognizes her as one of the ‘pizza and wine night’ friends. She’s grinning when she spots them and Jack lets out a whine of thanks when she hands him the coffee. 

“I can’t believe you let him rope you into this.” She snickers, handing him his own cup. 

Gabriel shrugs, “I wasn’t getting any sleep.”

The cup is warm between his cold hands and Jack closes the cooler door to let the flowers rest until pick up. 

The three of them are standing around the front counter when the shop opens and the mother of the bride arrives to pick up the flowers. 

She’s beaming, tears in her eyes when she sees them and Gabriel wants to roll his own at the sentiment. He never understood weddings. 

Jack shines under her praise, tries to turn down the roll of bills she insists he takes. He loses the battle and slumps with a smile as she pats his hand between her own and hurries out. 

Lena whistles at the cash in Jack’s hands.  

“Look at you.” She says, “I hope this gets your name out there, love.” 

Jack looks sheepish as he counts out the money on the counter. 

Gabriel is taking his last sip of coffee and figuring out a way to escape the social situation when Jack hands him part of the stack.

Gabriel frowns, “No.”

Jack insists, “You helped. You spent almost five hours helping me get this ready on time. Take it, Gabe.”

_ Gabe _ .

He swallows thickly and pockets the money, “Thanks, I’m uh - gonna -” He jerks his thumb at the front door. 

He needs to get out. 

Jack’s too much, too bright, too kind, too everything. 

Jack seems to understand and hands him the vase of cosmos from the counter, “Thank you, Gabriel.”

“Anytime.” He mutters, fingers wrapping around the glass. 

When he gets back into his apartment, the place feels empty and stale. His living room is a mess and the last set of flowers are wilted. He tosses them out with a frown and replaces them with the cosmos. 

He sits on his couch for a long while before he looks up the meaning of these.

_ Peaceful feelings _

His throat closes up and he sets his head back on the couch.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


It becomes something of a habit, dragging Gabriel out to help him in the shop. 

Angela gets caught up some weekends and Jack meets Gabriel bright and early on Saturday to invite him to work. 

He expects a growled ‘fuck off’ each time, but to his surprise, Gabriel never turns him down. Sure, Gabe still grumbles as he gathers up his stuff, but in the end he follows Jack to the store and arranges flowers in the back of the shop while Jack works the counter. 

Jack doesn’t ask why Gabriel won’t deal with crowds. Maybe one day Gabriel will tell him, but until that day comes, Jack is content to bring him orders and answer questions. 

If Angela is surprised to see Gabriel there on the third week, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she gives him a long look after putting her pre-packed lunch in the kitchen area.

“Your neighbor is cursing at flowers.” She notes casually, joining him at the front counter. 

Jack laughs and hands a woman her change, “Yes. I can hear him.”

Angela leans against the counter, “Lena was right.”

He tenses, “About?”

“You taking him in like a stray puppy.” She muses.

Jack frowns, “That’s not what it is, Ang. He doesn’t work weekends and I asked for the help.”

“Yes.” She nods solemnly, “Men you’ve barely known a month just agree to make flowers with you all day because ‘ _ they don’t work weekends _ ’.” Her air quotes make his frown redouble. 

“You mean I made a friend?” Jack says sarcastically, “Shocker.”

She sneers, “We both know he’s only here for your cookies.” 

Jack rolls his eyes, “You’re all only here for my cookies.”

She looks expectantly at him and he sighs, pointing to the back room, “They’re in the jar on the counter.”

She squeaks in delight and disappears into the back again. 

He serves the next three customers, handing them their orders or ringing up their purchases.

Jack jumps in surprise when Jesse walks in, hands slamming onto the countertop, cowboy hat askew atop his head. 

“I fucked up.” He hisses.

Jack immediately starts laughing, “What?”

Jesse whines, “I think today is our two year anniversary, but I don’t  _ know _ . I can’t remember and Han isn’t speakin’ to me!” He tugs at his brown locks, “It’s not his birthday,  _ I checked facebook. _ ”

Jack puts up his hands and can hear as Angela and Gabriel emerge from the backroom due to the commotion. 

“You’re a moron, Mccree.” Gabriel snorts, biting into a cookie. 

Jesse groans, “I know.”

“Okay. Slow down.” Jack taps the counter, “What do you need?”

Jesse huffs and slumps against the counter, “I dunno, red roses? A dozen of ‘em.”  

Jack shakes his head, “Not for two years, Jesse. What does Hanzo  _ like _ ?”

Jesse seems to pause for a second, horror dawning across his face as he stares at Jack as though he kicked a puppy. “I don’t -”

“You’ve been with him for two years and you don’t know his favorite flower?” Angela asks incredulously from the sidelines, helping another customer who is watching Jesse with look a pity.

“Wow.” Gabriel shakes his head, another cookie appearing in his hand. Jack wonders if it was in his hoodie pocket. 

“We’re both  _ dudes _ we don’t have favorite flowers!” Jesse hisses.

Jack raises an eyebrow, “Being a guy doesn’t mean you can’t have a favorite flower.” He thinks over the last few encounters with Hazno. A few postcards from Genji in his mailbox, a shared cup of green tea at the foot of the stairs. “Hanzo’s a pretty chill guy, right?” 

“So chill.” Jesse says, “Almost frustrating if I didn’ love him so damn much.”

Jack smiles, “How about a flower that reminds him of home, but also reminds him that you love him?” 

“How does a rose not convey both of those things?” 

Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Roses are not indigenous to Asia.”

“Oh.” Jesse scratches at his beard, “Well, you’re the master of flowers, Jackie, what d’you suggest.”

“I have just the thing.” He glances back at Angela who gives them a wink.

“I’ll go get it.” She rushes to the back and comes back with a plastic case in her hands. 

Inside the case is a brilliant, red lotus. It’s Jack’s most expensive flower, just sitting idle on a shelf all week, waiting to be bought.

Jesse takes it in his hands carefully, as if it’s made of glass instead of plastic. “No. I can’t take this.” He shakes his head and tries to hand it to Jack, who pushes it back at him.

“Buy a bottle of wine and get a movie.” Jack suggests, “He’s going to be irritated when he gets home from work.”

“Maybe a bubble bath?” Angela suggests.

“Okay now we’re straying from dude territory.” Gabriel interrupts. 

Jack shoots him a look, which Gabriel grins at in the most sarcastic way possible. The familiar banter between them lights Jack up from the inside. Gabriel is a sassy shit when he comes out of that hard shell. Jack is trying desperately to avoid what Angela predicted, ‘fall hard and fall fast’, but it’s difficult to do when you have a man like Gabriel around. 

“How much?” Jesse sets the flower on the table and digs out his wallet. 

Jack watches him stumble with bills, cuss at the lack of them, and pull out his card, “On the house.” He finds himself saying.

Jesse’s jaw drops, “No.”

“Happy Anniversary, Jesse.” Jack hands him the lotus firmly, “Get out of my shop.”

Jesse’s smile is brilliant, “ _ Thank you.” _ He breathes, stumbling over his feet as he leaves, “Best neighbor ever.”

“Aren’t those things like crazy expensive?” Gabriel asks, leaning against the counter beside Jack. He smells like the lilies he’s been arranging in the back and something dark and spicy. 

Jack’s stomach churns at the smell.

“It’s a small price to pay to keep Hanzo around.” Jack shrugs, “I like Hanzo.”

“Hmmm.” Gabriel shakes his head, “Angela’s here, can I go home now?” 

Jack looks down at him, elbows propped up on the counter, sleeves rolled up to his forearms and beanie covering his head. He looks tired, he always does, but it’s different kind of tired. 

“Will you try to get some sleep?” Jack whispers. 

Gabriel closes his eyes, “You know it’s hard.”

“Last night was a rough one too.” Jack says. 

The words hang heavy between them for a moment and Jack is glad the store is empty and Angela is off straightening shelves. 

Jack had confronted Gabriel the second week about the nightmares, offering a place to go if he was too far into his head. Gabriel had looked a cross between irritated, angry, and relieved. Like he’s been dealing with the nightmares alone for so long, that Jack putting a hand out to help was a shock. 

“They’re all rough.” Gabriel finally admits, “I can’t remember the last time I haven’t had one.”

Jack sets a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, “Go try to nap. Text me if you need me?” 

Gabe nods once and pushes away from the counter. 

Jack watches him go, door swinging shut behind him as he ducks under his hoodie and makes for their complex across the street.  Jack can feel Angela as she comes up beside him, her hand on the center of his back.

“Oh  _ das Schätzchen. _ ” her voice is soft, “Watch your heart.”

He already knows it’s too late.

  
  


\--

  
  
  


Gabriel is trying his hardest to ignore Ana’s gaze as he scowls at his computer screen. 

He has three jobs to schedule, four agents to assign, and she’s staring a hole through his head from the doorway to his office. Her arms are crossed over a suited chest, hair in a tight black bun, gaze burning. He doesn’t want to look up. He  _ knows _ she can see the vase of irises on his desk. These were probably the only set of professionally arranged flowers Jack had given him in the month since he started. 

There’s greenery mixed with the leaves and they are so purple it almost hurts to look at them. They smell divine and he practically deflated when he searched the meaning.

_ Your friendship means so much to me _

Friends.  _ Friendship _ .

He attempts to concentrate harder on the computer, finger clicking violently on his mouse. He had be almost certain Jack was gay or fuck, at least bisexual. 

All of Jack’s kindness was a sign of  _ friendship _ . 

All the flowers, the cookies, the saturday mornings full of coffee and flower talk, had been about Jack wanting a friend. Which, to be fair, isn’t the problem. Gabriel likes Jack, despite the rocky first day and the persistent annoyance during the first week or so. 

He puts his elbow on the table and sets his face in his hand, “ _ What _ , Ana?”

“Your flowers are beautiful.” Her accent rolls over the words, “A gift from your neighbor again?”

“You know they are.” He snaps, “That’s not why you’re here.”

She hesitates at the doorway for a second longer before revealing a slip of paper in her hand, “I found someone who might be able to help with your sleeping issue.” She walks into the room slowly, as if approaching a wild animal. 

He feels like one, as his hackles rise and tension tightens the muscles in his back. The slip of paper makes him nauseous just looking at it. 

“No one can help.” He bites out, “Don’t even bother.” 

Her sigh his heavy, “Please just try. This is not healthy.” 

He hopes his glare is severe enough to get his point across, “Is it affecting my job performance?”

Her face falls, “No.”

“Then it doesn’t  _ matter _ .” He says, “Not everything can be fixed. Not everything needs to fall into order and line up the way you want it to.” He points at her, “I’m fucked up. I know I’m fucked up. Move on.”

She sets the paper near the vase on his desk, fingers light against the wood, “In case you change your mind.” 

He tosses the paper into the garbage the second he gets home. He also wakes up four times that night screaming, limbs tangled, breath heaving. The scent of blood and ammonia thick in his nose even though they are just  _ dreams _ .

Just stupid, foolish nightmares that he shouldn’t still be having.

He sits in his bed, shirtless, blanket around his hips and fights not to sob in desperation. He’s so tired, his body aches and his entire  _ soul _ is exhausted. He wants to rip the sheets to shreds around him and scream in frustration at the events that made him this way. 

A soft knock on the wall behind him causes his shoulders relax. He falls back onto his pillows and lifts a hand to the wall to knock back. It eases the anxiety, knowing Jack is awake in his room, concerned for Gabe’s wellbeing. He closes his eyes and for the first time, lets himself imagine being in Jack’s bed. Jack’s fingers running through his hair after a bad dream, that low, gravel voice lulling him to sleep. 

It’s a stupid fantasy. Gabriel can be violent when he wakes from his nightmares and Jack doesn’t like him like  _ that. _

His phone vibrates on his nightstand and he already knows it’s Jack before he pulls the message up.

J:  _ You okay? _

_ Same as always. _

J:  _ Need company? _

_ No. _

_ You keep pushing him away like that and of course he’s not going to want anything to do with you _ , Gabe thinks to himself. 

He rolls over and tries sleep for a fifth time.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“ _ Please _ Jack!” Angela never begs. Ever. 

She hasn’t actually  _ told  _ him what she needed yet, so he stands in the doorway to his apartment, eyebrow raised, still in his uniform from work. 

She’s also in her work uniform, something akin to blood is smeared on the edge of the shirt, and her shoes and pants are wet from the downpour outside. 

“What do you need?” He asks carefully.

“We have a convention Friday night and the nurse in charge of the floral pieces never ordered any!” 

“This Friday?” He stares at her, “As in tomorrow night?”

“I know. I’m so sorry!” She looks close to tears, “No one else wants to do an arrangement like this in such short notice. Our committee needs them picked up by noon to get everything ready in the hall.”

“It’s ten o’clock at night. I don’t have any flowers ordered.” He rubs his temples, “I have no idea how I’d even pull it off.”

“We don’t need anything fancy. Use what you’ve got at the shop, just - please.” She begs again, voice high, “This invites funding for the clinic and with everyone trying to shut down womens healthcare, we  _ need  _ these people impressed.”

Jack scowls, but not at her, in anger, “The flowers shouldn’t even matter.”

“I know but it’s just the way it is.” She clutches at his arm, “Will you do it?” 

How does he even say no to something like this? Answer: he doesn’t.

“Of course.” He nods, “Now, don’t you have a baby to deliver soon?” 

“Yea.” She takes in a deep breath, “Yes.  _ Thank you _ , Jack.” 

She’s gone before he can even get back into his apartment. Ten minutes later, he’s hovering in front of Gabriel’s door, hand poised to knock. The apartment is quiet beyond, no TV, and Gabe had gone to bed hours ago.

He’s turning to leave when he hears the footsteps approaching the door. Gabe opens it, dressed in his usual attire, and tucking his cellphone and wallet into his back pockets. 

“Going out?” Jack asks hesitantly, hands clutched around the banister. 

Gabe gives him a searching look, “Do you not need my help?”

Oh.  _ Oh. _

Jack grins, “Eavesdropping is bad, you know.”

“It’s not eavesdropping if she’s loud enough to wake the entire floor.” Gabe locks his door and joins Jack as he descends the steps. 

Jack bumps his arm against Gabe’s, “Thanks for this. I was - going to ask.” He rubs the back of his head, “But I feel like I take enough of your time already.”

“Nah. It’s cool.” Gabriel mutters, “Not doing me any good staring at my ceiling all night.”

They enter the shop in silence, the streets dead around them, save for a few passing cars. Jack locks the door behind them and starts scanning the coolers that line the walls of his shop. 

“What kind of flowers do you put on tables for a meeting of lady doctors?” Jack muses.

“I’m pretty sure fertility flowers would be rude.” Gabriel says, “Maybe something that symbolizes health, instead?”

Jack nods and starts gathering up different breeds of flowers, giving Gabriel instructions as he goes. They spend the next two hours making practice bouquets, tossing out ideas and bickering back and forth over colors. 

“I’m the expert.” Jack admonishes. 

“Yeah, well, you don’t look at them from a first time viewers point of view.” Gabriel points between Jack and the flowers, “You see them everyday, you know how to picture them and place them, right _? _ ”

Jack nods, listening with rapt attention.

“You don’t get the same type of wonder that say, someone walking in a room full of stuffy rich people, will experience when they see your flowers for the first time.” 

It’s true and Jack knows it. He stares at the four different arrangements of flowers and sighs, dropping his hands over he knees. 

“Come on, Jack. You got this.”

The words give him a second wind and before he knows it, they agree on a set of dark, dense colored flowers. They symbolize inner strength and health, both of which Jack hopes Angela and her fellow doctors will appreciate. 

They work for hours, past two, then past three in the morning. 

Gabriel has turned a radio on while he stretches his legs and his back. Jack is still trying to finish his current set of flowers, fingers cold from the cooler. He wants coffee and food, he wants his  _ bed. _ He can hear Gabe’s footsteps moving around the shop, the soft tune from the radio fills the silence of the back room. It relaxes him for a second, fingers deftly tying another band around his last set.

He gets so into the song and trying to perfect the shearing of a stem, that he doesn’t notice Gabriel returning to the cooler. 

He doesn’t notice until something soft and ticklish brushes against his temple, barely there. 

Jack knows the touch of flowers well, the scent of them even more so. The petals move slowly down the side of his face and he stares at his hands, heart pounding.

He recognizes the scent easily enough, a camellia. A basic flower; depending on its color. It glides over his cheek, his ear, along the side of his neck, and goosebumps scatter across his skin, heat rushing to his face. He feels like he’s going to explode and his heart is hammering a mile a minute in his chest.

The camellia finally rests at the base of his jawline, hesitating for only a moment before running up towards his chin as if beckoning him to lift it. 

Jack does and his breath catches in his throat as it hovers over his lips, petals silken and cool.

The color is obvious now and it’s a soft, dreamy pink, like the sky at sunrise. 

His hands shake with realization, his entire being wants to sink to his knees at Gabriel’s feet, because a pink camellia means  _ longing _ .

Gabriel is looking down at him with unconcealed desire.  His fingers are light against the stem of the flower.

Jack takes note that Gabriel’s hood has pushed back and there’s no beanie in the way, leaving black curls to frame Gabriel’s face in a messy halo. He looks like a dream. 

Jack  _ has  _ to be dreaming.

“Gabe, what -.” Jack tries to say something, but the pressure of the flower against his lips increases just slightly.

“Shh.” Gabriel murmurs, “Will you let me kiss you, Jack?”

Jack wants to soar or sob, he doesn't know which, but he chokes out a strangled, “ _ Yes. _ ”

The flower falls into Jack’s lap as Gabriel reaches forward, big hands framing his jaw line and tipping his head back to reach his lips. 

Jack is not ashamed to say he whines when Gabriel fits their mouths together. 

It’s so warm, so gentle despite the barely controlled anger Gabriel radiates. 

Jack’s fingers curl into the bottom of the hoodie, desperately trying to anchor himself while the wet heat of Gabriel’s mouth burns him up. 

They part for air and the pause between is too long. Jack tries to reel him back in, chasing Gabriel’s mouth with his own. The chuckle that vibrates against his mouth as Gabe kisses him again sends tingles of lust down his spine. 

Gabriel’s fingers curl around his own as they finally part, detaching Jack’s fingers from his jacket. Jack wants to beg for more, just one more kiss, he’s been dreaming about this for weeks. 

A thumb brushes against his lips, “You are so beautiful.” The words rolls off his tongue like a caress and Jack’s insides melt.

“We still have to finish the - flowers.” Jack murmurs.

“We do.” Gabe agrees, “I’m going to get us some coffee, the usual?” 

Jack nods numbly and Gabriel steals one more kiss before stepping away and strolling out of the cooler like he didn’t just completely upend Jack’s world. 

_ Too hard, too fast. _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was the kiss good enough? I agonized over it for an hour, no lie. 
> 
> Also, the song in the background is Deep End by Ruelle. I literally listened to that song on repeat for days while I planned this chapter.
> 
> Also. You can find me on tumblr at [Gabrielsthighz](http://www.gabrielsthighz.tumblr.com)
> 
> And there is artwork for this chapter now! You can find it [Here.](http://non-fatmilk.tumblr.com/post/159742687758/i-just-read-in-the-language-of-flowers-by)
> 
> Lisianthus - Calming  
> Cosmos - Peaceful feelings  
> Iris - Your friendship means so much to me  
> Camelia - Red- Longing


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly want to just bow down at ya'lls feet because I was just fit to bursting after reading all the comments. This is so much fun to write and I am eternally gracious that you are all here to enjoy this ride with me!
> 
> Now a couple of warnings in here and added to the tags above. 
> 
> Brief racism and homophobia in this chapter.
> 
> Bonus: Sexy times.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

**Three**

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gabriel doesn’t see Jack for a week after the kiss. 

A job goes ass up, causing over twenty grand in damage. Meanwhile, Amelie gets stuck babysitting a rich prick, resulting in the worst barrage of french cuss words ever thrown at him in his life. He spends every waking second from 6am to well past midnight stuck in his office, filing bullshit reports to cover the cost of the repairs. 

Ana sits in with him every night, her own stack of paperwork to weed through. 

On Thursday, she’s tucked up on his couch with a cup of steaming tea, her last report finalized and signed beside her. 

Gabe still has ten more to go.

“You look different.” She notes.

He doesn’t glance over from the computer screen, “How so?”

“You’ve been here well over your salary time and you haven’t gotten angry  _ once _ .” She says incredulously, “No tantrums, nothing.” 

He schools his face into a blank mask, “Maybe I really like my job.” 

“Doubtful.” She snorts, “It’s almost eight. Go home and get some rest.” 

He doubts that will happen, but he shuts down the computer anyway and follows her out of the building. 

The weather is chilly and he fears snow will be a possibility in the next few months. He pulls his hoodie tighter around his body as he heads for the bus stop. 

An hour later he’s stepping off in front of his complex. He wants to go straight inside and see if Jack is home. He feels like a coward for avoiding him the entire week. He casts a glance towards the shop and the lights are off, so that means no late night flower arrangements.  

The warmth of the apartments lobby is a welcome change as he shakes off the cold and pushes his hood off of his head. 

He’s surprised to see Jack and Hanzo at the top, tucked into one corner of the wide staircase, both both holding steaming green mugs. 

Gabe tries to ignore the skip in his chest when Jack spots him and offers a weak smile. 

Hanzo looks far more stern, eyeing Gabriel with obvious distaste. He winces inwardly and wonders if Jack mentioned that Gabe disappeared after sharing one of the hottest kisses of his life. 

At least, to Gabe it had been. He doesn’t even remember what possessed him to do any of it, but it was fucking worth it. Jack had been pliant and aggressive and  _ needy _ . Gabe wanted all of that and more underneath him very,  _ very _ soon. 

However, with the way Hanzo is staring at him and Jack is avoiding his gaze, it may not happen at all.

“Reyes.” Hanzo nods, “You are late this evening.”

Gabriel grunts, “Been late every evening.” 

Jack clears his throat, “Work?”

“Some fuck up on a client's side put us in hot water.” Gabe shrugs, “Nothing we can’t handle.”

He steps past them, going to his door and unlocking it. He glances back at the pair of them and their heads are bent together, talking quietly. A couple of postcards are scattered behind them on the floor, all depicting Hanzo’s green-haired brother and his monk friend. 

A twinge of jealousy spears through him without consent. They look comfortable. No wonder Jack had been able to help Jesse with the anniversary gift. Jack was attentive, always ready with an ear to hear someone out, always willing to help. 

It satisfies him to slam the door shut on them. 

The cold, empty darkness of his apartment greets him and the satisfaction turns sour in his stomach. He needs a shower, food, probably water too, but the motivation is gone. 

The apartment is a black hole and his depression is at the center of it. He wants to go back out in the hall with the stupid bright postcards and Jack’s blue eyes and even Hanzo’s grumpy, blank-faced company. 

He doesn’t. 

He crawls into bed and stares mindlessly at the ceiling. The air conditioner hums from somewhere in the apartment, but he still feels too hot, too itchy, too restless. 

He closes his eyes and thinks of Jack. The strangled  _ yes _ and the desperation in his grip when Gabe kissed him. Jack had the most beautiful moan and he remembers it well, playing it in his head like a record all week.

Sex didn’t come easy since he’d been back. Nothing could get him up and at the time, everything sent him into a tailspin of anxiety attacks. His last attempt had been so embarrassing that he never tried again and no one bothered encouraging him to get laid. 

He wanted Jack in the worst of ways though. He wanted to see if his body would react with Jack under him. 

He falls asleep with the thought swimming.

And wakes screaming. 

The clock reads two hours after he arrived home. He punches his pillow with his head and fists his hands against his eyes, fighting back the burn of tears. 

He fucking hates this. 

The knock on the wall nearly throws him out of his skin. He sits up and twists around to look at it. 

Jack hadn’t done that all week and to be fair, Gabe had crashed on the couch most of the nights, staring at the last vase of flowers Jack had left for him. He knows it’s still on his coffee table, leaves black and littering the wood top.

Jack hasn’t sent any more flowers since the kiss either. 

He swallows thickly and knocks timidly back, keeping his knuckles firm to the wall and wanting nothing more than to bridge the gap between them. He’s never wanted to be in someone else's bed so badly. 

Jack’s room is probably clean and bright, better than the hell hole he calls a bedroom. 

There isn’t another knock and Gabe curls his legs to his chest. His phone never buzzes, he presses his forehead to his kneecaps and inhales shakily. 

He is not going to cry. He is  _ not  _ going to cry. 

The next knock he hears isn’t from behind him, but from his front door. 

Whatever dark, twisted nightmare had started forming in his chest dissipates with that knock. He doesn’t even bother putting his shirt on as he just rushes to the door. The black abyss of his apartment feels like slick tendrils trying to drag him back in, but he opens the door anyway and Jack is there.

He’s in grey pants and a blue shirt and he’s holding a vase of red carnations. 

Gabe clenches his eyes shut and sags against the doorframe.

“Are you alright?” Jack asks softly.

Gabriel shakes his head, “No.”

When he opens his eyes Jack has the vase in one hand and his other stretched out to Gabe, “Come to my place?”

Gabe takes his hand.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Jack isn’t one to dwell on things he can’t change.

No.

He’s a dirty liar. 

He dwells on Gabriel every second of every day until Thursday when he sees him on the stairs. He dwells on the rough touch of Gabe’s hands and the hot, slick feel of his mouth against Jack’s. He thinks about it and twists it so many ways. 

In the end, it boiled down to Gabriel regretting it and avoiding Jack. Which is exactly what happened and Jack hated it. 

That kiss hadn’t felt like a one time thing. It had been passionate, desperate, and Gabe had initiated it.  _ Gabe asked him if he could _ .

And like a fool, Jack let him slice his heart open and then watched as it spilt all over the floor of his shop. 

Gabe had brought back coffee and they’d talked until the shop opened, until Angela’s committee picked up the flowers. Then Gabriel’s job called him away. 

So Jack didn’t want to be angry, because Gabe had said something went down. 

When the scream brings him out of the book he was reading, he decides that enough is enough. 

Which brings them to Gabriel sitting on his couch holding a bottle of water and staring unseeingly at the TV. 

Gabriel admitting that something was wrong had been a surprise. Every part of his body had been tense, poised to attack until he saw Jack and his flowers at the door. 

Gabe is holding the vase between his thighs, a finger absentmindedly rubbing at the ribbon of a carnation. He’s not wearing a shirt and Jack takes a moment to count the individual scars on his chest, including a small starburst on the right side of his abdomen. 

Gabe’s head turns to him, eyes finding Jack’s, “I was a black operation specialist.”

That’s all he needs to say before Jack joins him on the couch. He slips his feet under Gabe’s thighs, his own bottle of water in hand, and waits. 

Gabe takes a sip from his own bottle, silently eyeing Jack as he makes himself comfortable.

He eventually sighs, “I can’t really tell anyone what I did. It was high level, direct orders from the government type shit.” He puts the vase of flowers on the floor and leans back into the couch, “I spent six years of my life following the pointed finger and doing my job. I did - a lot I’m not proud of, but it was necessary.”

“You seem the type to do what needs to be done no matter the consequences.” Jack mutters. 

“It’s what we do. We do what the front lines can’t. They just fight the war and the other pawns on the battlefield. They stand as symbols and heroes.” Gabe says, “We hide in the shadows and take out assumed threats.”

The word  _ assumed  _ hangs in the air between them and Jack frowns, “The nightmares-.” He begins, “Are they -?”

Gabe nods, “Yea. Most of them are just memories, some are my mind twisting what could have been or should have been into something worse.”

“How long have you been out?” Jack asks. 

“Less than three years.” Gabe answers, voice unsteady, “It should be gone by now right?”

“Have you seen anyone?” Jack asks and he instantly knows the answer because Gabe’s face morphs into something hostile.

“That shit doesn’t work.” He snaps. 

“How would you know if you don’t try?” 

“Because what do I say? Oh, I killed women and children and people that probably weren’t threats because my job was to say ‘yes sir’ and ‘yes ma’am’ only.” Gabe snarls, “I can’t tell that to anyone because then everything I said on my discharge papers would be a  _ lie _ and I would be  _ committed. _ ”

Jack is silent for awhile, long enough for Gabe to sigh and try to get off the couch. 

He slaps a hand on Gabe’s chest and pushes him back down, scowling, “You’re not going anywhere, Gabe.”

“Then  _ say  _ something.” Gabe hisses, “You’re staring at me like you don’t know who I am.”

Was he? Because Jack felt like he’d been staring at him and trying to figure out the best way to initiate a hug without scaring him off. 

“Do you want to watch the discovery channel with me?” Jack asks instead.

Gabriel looks at him as though he’s lost his goddamn mind, and he probably has. Gabe isn’t a man down on his luck with occasional bad dreams. He’s a  _ veteran _ with a severe case of depression and PTSD on a scale Jack isn’t sure how to handle yet. 

Jack rearranges himself on the couch so he’s up against Gabriel’s side. He grabs a blue blanket from the arm and throws it over the both of them. 

“Just watch this with me.” Jack says softly, “Or you can go back to your apartment.” 

Gabe tugs the blanket tighter around them, drops his arm across the back of the couch behind Jack’s head, fingers brushing the skin of his shoulder. Jack eases into his side and the warmth from his skin and the dark spice of whatever deodorant he uses lingers in his nose. 

Jack melts the rest of the way against him, turns up the TV, and gets lost in the documentary on hippos.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


Gabriel spends all of two seconds staring at the flyer for a PTSD group meet-up before tossing it in the garbage. 

The flyer had been pinned to the cork board message center at the coffee shop, where he is currently awaiting four cups of coffee. 

Curiosity had gotten the better of him when he saw it, but once he peeked inside, it was too pretty and too flashy. The words were far too cheerful, promising recovery and rainbows. He didn’t need rainbows and he certainly didn’t need a roomful of people to tell him that ‘ _ everything will be okay _ ’. 

That was also written in the brochure. 

“Gabriel?” The barista calls and he gives a short wave. She grins at him and hands over the coffees already in a cup holder. He takes it with a wry grin and sends a quick text to Jack that he’s walking back with the coffee. 

His clock reads 7:49 and he knows the shop will be open before he gets back with it. 

The neon sign in blinking when he arrives and he can see Angela putting out the latest batch of roses in the main cooler, while Lena juggles corsage samples at the counter cooler. 

Jack has the store phone between his ear and shoulder, hands full of multi-colored daisies and a woman standing in front of him checking her watch irritably. 

When he pushes into the store, he hears Jack’s exasperated, “You wrote the order on the request form, sir.”

“Well obviously you read it wrong.” The woman in front of him snaps. 

Gabriel sets the coffee on the counter firmly, startling the woman in a way that pulls her attention away from the scowl on Jack’s face. Angela and Lena are watching from their peripheral vision.

“What’s wrong?” Gabriel asks, wiggling a cup free from the holder.

“He messed up the order for my daughter's birthday party. She’s  _ allergic _ to daisies and this moron is saying my husband ordered them specifically.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at Jack expectantly. 

“He did.” Gabriel states, snatching the order form from behind the counter. He waves it in her face, “Your husband signed for and I quote ‘Really colorful rainbow daisies or something.’ “

She flushes red with anger and he feels one of Jack’s hands squeeze his bicep, “It’s fine.” He mutters and goes back to his phone call to try and diffuse the situation. 

Gabriel takes a nonchalant sip of his coffee and stares down the woman in front of them. Her toe is tapping insistently and she keeps muttering ‘never coming  _ here _ again’ under her breath and Gabe thinks,  _ good.  _

Thirty five minutes later the woman is leaving without flowers and threatening to give the shop a bad review. 

Jack sags against the counter and puts his face in his hands, “That was horrible.”

“Businesses come at a cost, Jack.” Angela tuts, “Not every customer will be satisfied.”

“I’m aware of that.” He states irritably, “I’m just not fond of someone else's incompetence being  _ my _ fault.”

Lena shrugs, “Some people are just like that, love.”

Jack groans and turns to Gabriel, “Nice save, by the way, I was about four seconds from reaching across the counter and strangling her.”

Gabriel snorts,  “You have the patience of a saint, Jack, I don’t know how.” He pats him on the shoulder, “I’ll be in the back pretending the human race doesn’t exist if anyone needs me.” 

Lena giggles, “Will do!” 

He grabs the next couple of orders from the stack by the door and heads for the cooler. It takes him about ten minutes to get all the vases, flowers, and ornaments arranged around him before he plops on the ground and gets to work. 

He can hear the shop growing busier and busier as the day rolls on. He alternates between handing orders to Jack or Lena or Angela as the people show up to get them. 

It gives him a lot of time to think. 

The most important topic being Jack’s lack of bolting when Gabriel vomited his problems all over the pristine innocence of Jack’s apartment. 

Jack had done as he always did, listened patiently, asked questions, then diverted when things got hairy. Gabe couldn’t complain, because sitting with all of Jack’s golden brilliance pressed up against his side had been heaven.  

It didn’t seem to matter that Gabriel spent six years of his life covered in someone else's blood, Jack still wanted to watch stupid documentaries about  _ hippos _ on the couch at one am with him. He still showed up with red carnations that meant  _ I miss you terribly _ because Gabriel was a coward who hid behind his job after kissing him. 

He doesn’t deserve Jack. Not his smiles or his silly flowers or even the way he says Gabe’s name when Gabriel is being a shit. 

But he isn’t going to say no and he definitely isn’t going to stop it. 

Lena zips in through door, pulling him from his thoughts as she bumps into a set of vases and sends them rolling across the floor. 

“Code red!” She hisses, rapping sharply against the glass of the cooler he’s sitting in.

Gabriel lifts an eyebrow, “What?”

“Code red!” She repeats, “ _ Jack’s parents are here _ .”

_ That _ gets his attention and he clambers to his feet, abandoning his vases full of tiger lilies. 

He follows her out into the shop again where he spots Angela visibly trying to keep a forced smile on her face while Jack looks to be having a mild panic attack behind his cash register. 

A middle-aged brunette woman is standing in the center of the shop, dressed in jeans and a red button up, grinning from ear to ear at Jack. Beside her is a stern-looking blonde man, ridiculously tanned. Gabriel now knows where Jack got his face. 

The woman looks excited to see Jack, who waves at them awkwardly. Mr. Stern-and-Tan is staring around the shop wearing an expression like he stepped in dog shit. 

Gabriel comes to a stop beside Jack, “Surprise?” He whispers.

Jack visibly swallows, “Save me.” He hisses under his breath just before he rounds the counter with his arms open, “Hi mom.”

“Jack!” She exclaims, letting him pull her into a hug. She is considerably smaller than Jack’s bulky frame, which Gabriel notes is almost exactly like his father. 

He watches as Jack parts from his mom and puts a hand out for his dad, who shakes it with something akin to reluctance. 

“Welcome to LA.” Jack smiles hesitantly, “I didn’t realize you were - uh - coming?”

“Your mother insisted we visit.” 

She grabs his hands between her own, “Oh don’t worry, we booked a hotel for the weekend. You mentioned your apartment only had one bedroom.” 

“Yes.” Jack manages a weak smile, “It’s good to see you both.”

He turns to Gabriel, who can read the panic that keeps flashing across Jack’s face. “Uh these are my friends -” Jack motions to the three of them, “Angela, who you’ve met, mom, Lena and Gabriel.”

Lena waves, “Hiya.”

“Mrs. Morrison.” Angela tips her head, “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“This is my mom, Sarah and my dad, John.” Jack looks visibly uncomfortable saying his dad's name. 

Gabriel remains silent and he notices the way Jack’s dad is eyeing him, with blatant distaste and irritation. 

Sarah claps her hands together to interrupt the silence.

“How’s business, honey?”

Jack’s smile is genuine now and Gabriel relaxes at its reappearance, “Really good. This is my first weekend without a wedding though, so it’s a relatively slow day.”

John snorts, “Don’t see how much business you can get in a city with at least twenty shops on every corner.”

Jack stiffens at that, fidgeting with his hands. 

“He does really well.” Lena’s voice has lost its cheerfulness and is instead sharp as a barb, “He’ll be able to start hiring help and set up a delivery system soon.” 

“How wonderful.” Sarah breathes, squeezing her son’s arm, “I’m so proud of you honey.”

Jack’s dad doesn’t look too proud, but Gabriel elects to ignore it, he clears his throat, “We need to finish those lilly orders for Sanchez, Jack.”

“Right.” Jack nods, “I close at five, where can I -?” He looks down to his mother for an answer.

“Oh. We rented a car.” She grins, “And the hotel is right down the road, shall we come get you after work?”

He nods, “Of course.” And kisses her cheek before following Gabriel to the backroom. 

Once they round the corner Gabriel turns to face Jack, who has his eyes closed and is taking deep, steadying breaths. 

Gabe puts a hand on Jack’s hip, thumb brushing the skin between his shirt and pants, “You okay?”

“Do I look okay?”

“You look like you’re fixing to start hyperventilating.” Gabriel drawled.

Jack also looks extremely pale and his hands are twisting between them. Gabriel can faintly hear Lena and Angela wish the parents goodbye as the door jingles with their departure. 

“My dad hates that I used my savings for this.” Jack blurts.

“I gathered.” Gabriel murmurs, “I take it your last parting was not on amicable terms?”

Jack inhales sharply, “He told me I wasn’t allowed home unless I planned on taking over the farm.”

Gabriel winces, “That sucks.”

Jack peers up at him, “Did you ever have any epic fights with your dad?”

Gabe shakes his head, “My  _ abuela _ raised me.” 

“Oh.” Jack tilts his head, “That’s nice.”

“You say that until she throws a spatula at you and see if she’s ‘nice’.” Gabe air quotes with a grin, “But yea, I didn’t have any fights with her that involved me losing my childhood home.”

“You’re lucky then.” Jack groans, “Because I basically came out and told him I was leaving at the same time.”

“Double whammy.” Gabriel chuckles.

“I thought he was going to hit me.” Jack frowns, “My mom was crying and I was 20 and ready to leave. So not only was I the only child who didn’t want to take over the Morrison family tradition, but I was  _ gay _ on top of it. He lost his temper and told me not to come back unless I straightened out.” 

“Straight being the key word there.” Gabriel scowls.

Jack nods, “Yea.” 

He slips his hand to the center of Jack’s back and tugs him up against his chest. 

Jack yields willingly, blue eyes watching him with unnerving patience. His hands find their way to the open lapels of Gabe’s jacket and he tugs down. 

Gabe slants his mouth over Jack’s gently, curling his fingers into the shirt Jack’s wearing. Jack opens his mouth for Gabe’s tongue and groans, pressing himself closer. 

They part when someone clears their throat and Gabe glances up to see Lena pointing to the vases in the cooler, “Order for Lucio ready yet?” 

“Uh yea.” Jack pulls back, “I’ll get it.” His hand slides down Gabe’s chest as he walks away to get the blue vases of calla lilies from the cooler. 

Gabe rubs the spot that Jack last touched long after he’s gone.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Jack doesn’t want to close his shop down when 4:55 rolls around. 

He’s alone now, having sent everyone home at four. He spots his mom waving at him from the window of a white car parked in front of the shop. He lets out a reluctant sigh and locks the shop up behind him, texting Gabe that he’ll be out late. 

_ Good luck, farm boy _

Jack wrinkles his nose at that and climbs into the backseat of the car his parents rented. 

His mother gushes over the things they went and saw while he finished his work day. 

Jack stares out the window, watching the many storefronts pass by. He feels like a teenager in the backseat while his parents go back and forth over the pros and cons of living in a city this big. He drowns them out, thinking of Gabe and wishing he was on the couch with him instead of here. 

They arrive at a small restaurant that his mother swears by based on reviews she got from the internet. 

A waiter seats them at a little table by the window and Jack scans the menu, realizing he hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast. 

“So how did you meet - what was his name?” Sarah asks, waving a hand at him.

“Gabriel.” Jack replies, “He’s my neighbor.”

“Oh that’s nice.” She glances up from her menu, “He’s a very intense looking man.”

_ And dad isn’t? _ Jack grumbles internally, “Gabe’s a good guy mom.”

“I’m not saying he isn’t.” She admonishes, “He just looks a little -.”

“Questionable.” Jack’s dad grunts.

Anger boils in Jack’s gut, but he keeps his gaze on the menu, scanning the many italian dishes laid out in list form. 

He’s no stranger to his parents standpoint on different races. His father made it a well known fact for most of his life. His mother had been quieter about it, but that didn’t make it better.

“That is not what I was going to say.” Sarah insists, “He’s just not your usual type of friend, sweetie.”

The way she says  _ friend _ makes the anger curl into nausea, as if the idea of him being with Gabe is akin to a festering boil or a flesh eating virus. 

“Gabriel is a  _ veteran _ .” Jack hisses, finally setting his menu down, “His skin color and whether or not I’m sleeping with him shouldn’t matter. You want to spend a few days here, you need to keep your racism to yourselves.”

Sarah looks hurt, hand curled to her stomach and his father’s brow furrows in anger. 

“That’s not what I -.” She starts, but Jack holds up a hand.

“I’m glad you’re both here. I missed you.” Jack admits, “But I came here to get away from that. I went to college and I opened my own shop -”

“A  _ flower _ shop isn’t a future.” John’s voice is steady, stern, as if he’s fixing to give Jack a lecture.

Jack scowls, “It’s one that I chose for myself. You made it clear that I wasn’t welcome home, dad.”

“Because you’re not running the farm with a  _ man _ at your side.” John hisses.

“I won’t run the farm period.” Jack snaps. 

“Stop.” His mother mutters as the waitress comes to take their orders. 

Jack can feel the anger surging under his skin. He wants to leave and he also wants to flip the table over and fist fight his dad in the middle of the restaurant. 

But, he knows all too well how a fight with his dad ends.

“And what will you do when you fail?” His father snaps, “End up homeless?”

“I won’t fail.” Jack says confidently, “I planned this out. I made back ups to my back ups.”

“We’re just concerned for your future.” His mother whispers, reaching across the table to take his hand, “You should settle down with Angela or Lena. They’re both nice women.”

Jack stares at her hand hard, “They’re both gay too mom.”

Her face falls a little at that, “Oh.”

“Yea.” He pulls his hand away, “I’m aware of what a giant disappointment I am to you two. You don’t need to keep bringing it up every time you talk to me.”

The food comes and breaks the tension for a bit, Jack eats in silence and watches his mother push her food around. His father doesn’t even touch the silverware. 

“Are you with him?” His mother finally asks.

Jack isn’t sure himself, but he says “Yes” anyway just to watch the disappointment flash on both of their faces. 

Part of him gets a thrill from it, because he spent his entire teenage years sneaking around with guys from school hoping to get caught. 

He never did.

The other part desperately wants them to  _ accept _ him for who he is and stop treating him like he has a contagious disease. 

“His kind -.” His father starts to say but Jack slams his fork into the table, startling them both. 

“You really want to finish that sentence?” Jack asks dangerously.

He pulls his wallet out and sets his share of the dinner on the table. “I’m going home. If you two can keep your shit on lock, I’ll take you to the walk of fame tomorrow.” Jack stands, his mother reaching for him, but he steps out of the way. “Text me.”

He catches a bus back to his complex, but doesn’t go inside. 

He instead slips back into his shop, inhaling the mixture of scents and attempts to center the rage roiling inside him.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


It’s well past eight when Gabe glances down at his phone to check and see if Jack made it home safe. 

There are still no texts and he scowls at the carnations still blooming in the center of his coffee table. 

All his plans for cuddling with Jack on the couch had gone out the window when his parents showed up. Which is really fucking selfish of him to think, but on the other hand Jack didn’t seem too happy about the surprise visit. 

He gives in and texts Jack at eight thirty to see if everything was going okay. 

J:  _ I’m at the shop. _

Which means it went the opposite of okay. 

Gabe pushes himself off the couch and tugs a sweater on as he leaves his apartment. 

Hanzo is just unlocking the door to his own apartment when Gabe hits the first step.

“Is he really at the shop this late on a Saturday?” Hanzo questions.

“Parents.” Gabe mutters and Hanzo nods knowingly, disappearing inside. 

Gabe tries not to be jealous of the fact that Jack spoke to  _ Hanzo _ about his parents but not Gabe. It doesn’t work, but it’s also not important. 

The door to the shop is unlocked when he gets there and Jack is braced against the back of the counter, just staring down at the wood. 

“Bad night?” Gabe asks.

Jack sighs heavily, “Does your family know you’re gay?”

Gabriel strolls up to the counter and leans across from him, “Yea. I told her when I was sixteen.”

Forlorn blue eyes glance up to meet his, “And what did she say to you?”

“Wear a condom.” He replies and it gets a burst of a chuckle, transforming Jack’s sad features morph in amusement. “She also said she’d love me no matter what.” Now he watches Jack’s face twist into something worse than sadness and damn it breaks his heart. 

“My parents treat it like it’s a disease that needs to be cured.” He waves around him, “Like being gay and this entire shop and my being gone for seven years is just some phase I’m going through and I’ll come crawling back to marry a  _ woman _ and have  _ kids _ and run that stupid fucking farm.”

“Why are you letting them get to you like this, Jack?” Gabriel asks.

“Because I want them to just -.” Jack shoves his hands into his hair, “I want them to just accept me.”

“Is them coming out here like an olive branch or more of a last resort to convince you to come home?” He asks, watching Jack carefully.

Jack laughs bitterly, “They don’t think I should be friends with you.” 

“The latter then.” Gabriel scowls, moving around the counter to stand next to him, “I hope you gave it to them.”

“I’ve never called my parents racist to their faces before.” Jack snorts, “I was just so angry at how they were speaking about you -.” 

Gabriel grins, “Defending my honor?”

Jack shoots him an unimpressed look, “What honor?”

Gabriel presses a hand to his chest dramatically, “You wound me.”

Jack rolls his eyes and drops his head down against the counter, “I just hope the next couple of days go by fast.”

Gabe watches him for a moment, the tense outline of his shoulders and the way the pink shirt he’s wearing exposes the soft skin of his lower back. 

It seems monumentally unfair that Jack, a man with unwavering positivity had parents who were the exact opposite of positive. While Gabriel, nightmare ridden, too depressed to clean his own house, grew up with a loving grandmother. 

The universe fucked with people in weird ways. 

“Does this mean I should steer clear of you till they’re gone?” Gabriel asks tentatively.

Jack lifts his head slightly and stares over at him, “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

Gabe shrugs, “If they don’t see me around, then they can assume you took their advice, it’ll at least make the rest of their stay pleasant.”

Jack crosses his arms, head tilted, “I already told them I was seeing you.”

And fucking hell does that send a bolt of lust right down his spine. 

He knew damn well they were skating the line between late am cuddle buddies and making out like it would be their last chance. Neither of them said anything, it had just come naturally. It was so easy to reel Jack into a kiss and he turned to putty every time Gabriel put a hand on him. 

Talk about a high he never wanted to be rid of.

“Did you now?” He grins, sly, sidling up behind Jack and curling his fingers around his blue-jean covered hips. 

Jack keeps those blue eyes steady on him, flickering down to watch Gabe’s fingers push up the already stretched shirt to expose more flesh. Jack’s skin is a delicious contrast to Gabe’s as he runs a hand up his side and around to massage one of his pecs. He feels Jack shiver beneath his hands, tightening the grip he still has on his hip.

“ _ God, _ you are beautiful, Jack.” Gabe murmurs, tugging Jack’s ass back against him.

Jack groans, fingers gripping the edge of the counter, back arching to press against Gabe’s crotch. He looks magnificent and Gabe pushes the shirt all the way up to his armpits in order to gain access to the rest. 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted -” Jack trails off, unsure. 

Gabe leans forward, aligning himself along Jack’s back and pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss along his shoulder, “Oh I want.” He breathes it against Jack’s skin, feeling the body in front of him shiver with pleasure. 

He keeps one hand firm to Jack’s pec, tugging gently at the nipple there and drawing a sharp keen from Jack’s throat. His other hand moves down to cup the growing bulge in his jeans. It takes him less than a minute to unbutton, unzip, and pull Jack’s dick out. 

“ _ Gabe _ .” Jack hisses and Gabe stops mouthing his shoulder long enough to meet desperate blue eyes.

“ _ Hmmm _ ?” He murmurs and watches a flush break out across Jack’s cheeks.

“P-people can still see through the window.” Jack insists, eyes frantically jerking between the front door and Gabriel’s gaze. 

Gabe chuckles, grinding his slowly hardening cock against Jack’s ass, “I know.”

A high whine falls from Jack’s throat when Gabriel grabs his cock and gives it a slow, sloppy tug. 

Jack isn’t quiet and it’s glorious. His hips pump into Gabe’s hand and he isn’t the slightest bit shy about arching his chest further against the massage. Short, delicious whimpers fall from his mouth, his fingers struggle to keep a tight grip on the counter. Hell, he even  _ smells _ delicious. He smells like flowers, italian food, and sweat. 

Gabe groans against his shoulder, tightening his grip around Jack’s dick and rolling his hips a little harder. It’s the most turned on he’s been in a year. His entire body burns with desire and he desperately wants to kiss Jack again.

He releases Jack’s chest, earning a sweet whine of disappointment, and grabs Jack’s chin to twist his neck around. Their mouths meet in a messy dance of tongues and huffed moans. It spurs him to increase the speed of his hand, pulling Jack off quick and dirty.

“Gabe.” Jack moans against his mouth, “I’m-.”

Gabriel growls, nipping at Jack’s bottom lip, “That’s it. You’re going to come for me, right here on the floor.” Jack moans, high and sharp, “And you’re going to stand here every day after and think of me.”

“I already think of you.” Jack gasps, trying to meet Gabe’s mouth for another kiss. 

“Good.” Gabriel obliges, welcoming Jack’s tongue and sucking as he would if his mouth was between Jack’s legs.  

He can feel Jack’s thighs trembling, struggling to hold his weight under the onslaught of pleasure. His hand is slick on Jack’s dick, precum leaking and he knows that some has dripped onto the floor by now. 

He tugs just a little harder, faster. Jack twists his face into his own bicep, teeth sinking into the flesh to stop another whine.

“No.” Gabriel snarls, releasing Jack’s cock and receiving an anguished shout in return. “I want to hear you, Jack.”

“Yes.  _ Yes. _ ” Jack pleads, nodding frantically and flashing Gabe those blue eyes wet with desire. He wraps his hand around Jack again and tugs almost violently, causing a strangled moan and a breathy release of his name. 

“Close.” Jack whispers, “So close.”

Gabriel is too, hips grinding relentlessly against Jack’s ass. He’s closer than he’s ever been to an orgasm and he hasn’t even pulled his dick out. 

He presses his mouth to Jack’s shoulder, increasing the speed of his hand and returning the other one to Jack’s chest, tugging sharply at the other nipple.

Jack keens high in his throat, hips jerking helplessly into Gabe’s hand as he comes all over the floor. 

Gabe groans against his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and hips tight against Jack’s ass as he comes inside his pants. The release is sharp and agonizing due to how long it’s been, but it’s so sweet, so fucking sweet. 

They both pant in the aftermath, Gabriel releasing Jack’s dick in order to support the now noodle-loose body of the blonde. Jack’s legs are shaking and he’s hunched over the counter, arms barely keeping the bulk of his torso up. 

A soft burst of laughter brings Gabriel back to real time instead of whatever part of heaven he entered. He scrapes his beard against Jack’s neck and places a wet kiss to the underside of his jaw, “What’s so funny?”

“I never imagined our first time in my shop.” Jack chuckles, out of breath and pliant under Gabe’s touch. 

Gabe snickers, “Only right, since I kissed you here first.”

Jack hums, “Makes sense.”

He lets Jack hold his weight up against the counter as he moves around to clean up the mess they made, wincing at the wet feeling inside his jeans. Wasn’t pleasant in his teens, still isn’t pleasant now. 

He’s halfway through clean up with Jack smiles down at him, blissed out and beautiful, “So. I think there’s a program on cheetahs tonight, you up for it?”

Gabe grins, “For you? Anything.”

  
  


\--

  
  
  


Sunday morning brings Jack to wakefulness with the buzzing of his phone and the white noise of his TV. 

He finds the remote under his thigh and Gabriel in his hoodie leaning on him, arms crossed and tucked under his pits, snoring softly against Jack’s shoulder.

Something warm unfolds in his chest as he wiggles out, Gabe mumbling incoherently as Jack lays him down on the couch. 

They haven’t been asleep long. It’s half past six and he makes a quick trip to the bathroom before taking care of his morning routine. 

He thinks of making coffee, but bypasses it and walks out into the hallway. 

His keys jingle as he arrives at his mailbox, pulling out the mail from the previous day. 

What with his parents surprise and Gabriel’s ardor, he hadn’t had the time to check. 

There’s  _ another _ postcard from Genji and at this point he’s sure the younger brother is just happy to have another person to send weird stuff too.

“Reyes says your parents are here.” Hanzo’s soft, monotone voice nearly sends him through the roof. 

“Yea.” He grunts, shutting his box and waving the postcard, “Genji sends his regards.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes at that, “I am glad he is having fun.”

“I’m not sure a temple of monks would be fun but -.” Jack shrugs, “As long as he’s happy, I guess.”

Hanzo smiles gently, “My brother was a different person while under the stern eye of our father. As was I. So, I am familiar with the notion of family being a burden.”

Jack rubs the back of his head as they climb the stairs together, “I love them, but yea. Burden is a good word.”

Hanzo hums, “My father called me a very derogatory name and hung up on me when I confided in him that I had -  _ moved in _ with Jesse.”

“Yikes.” Jack mutters.

“Indeed.” Hanzo agrees, “We have not spoken since. I was the only bridge between my father and my brother and it is a relief to not be that bridge any longer.”

“Thank god I’m an only child.” Jack laughs.

Hanzo shares the laugh as they get to the top, “To have a sibling is an honor, no matter how much a pain he can be.”

“What’re you two doing up so  _ early _ ?” Gabriel is standing in Jack’s open doorway, hood up and glaring at the both of them.

Jack waves his mail, “Checking the mail.”

Gabe huffs, unimpressed.

Hanzo pauses at his door, “Would the two of you like breakfast and tea?” 

Jack turns to him in surprise, “Really?”

“It is sunday and Jesse always makes more pancakes than I am able to eat. You are both welcome.”

Jack glances over at Gabriel who rolls his eyes, grabs the apartment keys and shuts the door behind him. 

They both follow Hanzo into the apartment, the warm smell of breakfast and Jesse’s excited ‘Well howdy you two!’ greeting them.

While they eat, Jack glances up at Gabriel, who is having a furious discussion with Jesse on handguns and Hanzo, who is quietly sipping his tea and observing. 

He finally feels at home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry Hanzo and Jack having tea together from my cold, dead fingers. 
> 
> This chapter was very Jack-centric. Which means the next will focus on Gabriel. So strap on for the feels, because they aren't going to be fun. 
> 
> Thank all of you for your continued support and for the kudos and comments! (I read every single one of them and I cry at least 90% of the time because I'm a giant SOFTIE)
> 
> Red Carnation - My heart aches for you


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm here to hurt you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this taking so long to put up. I'm a drafting major and I have a full set of house plans due in two weeks. So yea, excuse the lateness. 
> 
> Thank you ALL for your amazing comments. Each and every one of them gets read, I assure you. I love the feedback, I love your excitement. 
> 
> Blood in this chapter.  
> Sexual content as well.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

**Four**

 

 

 

 

Depression is like a coiled snake. 

Gabriel never knows when it is going to strike. 

Most days, the depression just causes him to sit on his couch and watch spanish soap operas for hours. The bad days are the ones that evolve into panic attacks. Those are few and far between, the years dissolving them, but they don’t go away completely. 

It’s really fucking embarrassing to have a panic attack when you have the most gorgeous man on the planet giving you a blow job. 

Which brings him to his couch, pants undone and Jack kneeling between his legs while Gabe tries to come down from the panic. 

Jack’s hands are warm on his thighs, the only ground he has while his chest clenches tight and his head spins. All he can see is the blue,  _ so fucking blue _ , eyes watching him and Jack’s voice tugging him back. 

“Breathe through it, Gabe.” Jack murmurs, thumbs brushing the inside of his thighs. 

He doesn’t even know what set him off. He can’t  _ remember _ what set him off, but as the tightness recedes and his breathing returns to normal, all he can feel is the shame. Embarrassment makes his face burn as he drops his head into his hands.

“Fuck.” He hisses.

He feels Jack tuck his cock back into his pants and uses Gabe’s thighs to push himself up to his feet. He doesn’t want to even look at Jack now. 

“I’m fucking sorry, Jack.” Gabe mutters into his palms. 

He feels Jack’s weight sink into the spot on the couch beside him and hand rests at the base of his neck. “Don’t apologize.” 

Gabe fights the instinct to run. Every fibre of his being is telling him to bolt out of Jack’s apartment and lock himself away in the dark solitude of his room. He wrestles it down as Jack places a kiss where his neck meets shoulder. 

“I’m going to get the blanket out of the dryer down stairs and then we can watch some TV.” Jack whispers it into his skin and by the time Gabe processes what he says, his broad form is already disappearing through the front door. 

Gabe stares around Jack’s apartment, dropping his hands over his legs. 

Jack’s place was the only safe haven he had left and now he’s gone and ruined it with a fucking panic attack. This stupid couch and that stupid blanket, Jack’s soft smiles, and the general brightness of the place kept the darkness at bay. It never followed him out of his own apartment. 

Now he could feel it lurking like a shadow behind him, waiting to strike again. 

Jack returns with the blanket and detours to the kitchen to grab water before curling up on the couch next to Gabe. He watches Gabe for a few beats, hands holding the blanket above their laps as if asking for permission. 

Gabe should leave. 

He tucks Jack into his side instead, letting the warm, clean smell of the blanket and Jack’s own scent lull him against the couch. 

It takes Jack a full ten minutes to ask the question Gabriel has been dreading.

“Has it happened before?”

Gabriel closes his eyes with a sigh, “Yea.” He doesn’t want to say it. “About six months after I got home, Ana and Amelie convinced me to go out and try to get laid.” The TV drones on about howler monkeys and he can feel Jack’s eyes watching him, patient, kind. It makes Gabe’s skin crawl. “I got drunk, not the good kind of drunk, the bad kind. The kind where I was still adjusting to civilian life after six years of order and I didn’t know how to -.” He tightens his grip around Jack’s shoulder. “Pretty damn drunk. Took this guy back to my place and got about halfway into it before I realized I wasn’t even hard.” He laughs hollowly, “I was just going through the motions to appease the worried people in my life and I wasn’t even  _ attracted _ to this guy. So. It sent me to a bad place, the guy had no idea how to handle a fucked up vet.”

“Did I do something to trigger it?” Jack asks after a few moments of silence. 

Gabe shakes his head, “No. I get in a bad headspace sometimes and it just takes what it wants.”

Jack sighs, “I want to help, but I don’t know how.”

“Don’t need help.” Gabriel mutters, “Just need space when it happens.”

“I can do that.” Jack whispers. 

Except he doesn’t want Jack to leave him when it happens. He wants Jack to ground him, keep him firm to his orbit and wait it out. Gabriel is so tired of doing it all on his own. 

He glances down at Jack, who is focused on the TV, blanket tucked up under his chin. It’s the closest Gabe’s been to another human being in two years. The kisses, the couch sessions, and the hurried tryst in Jack’s shop. He wonders if maybe trying sex again so soon was what set him off.  But damn, Jack’s mouth had been wet and warm under his own, begging to swallow him down. He has no doubt that it would have been perfect in every way. 

“I’m gonna fall asleep soon.” Jack’s voice is a soft rumble beside him, on the tail end of sleep. 

Gabriel runs a soothing hand down his arm, “Go ahead _. _ ”

He sits in silence once Jack drifts off, fingers gliding gently across Jack’s skin. A voice in his head tries to tell him that he doesn’t deserve to be here. That voice is alway there, reminding him that Jack is too good for him, too beautiful, too much of everything Gabriel doesn't deserve anymore. 

_ Not after everything you’ve done. _

He inhales sharply, keeping the darkness as bay, focusing on Jack’s quiet breathing and the soft sounds of the TV. 

You deserve this. You  _ deserve _ this.

That coiled snake tells him otherwise.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Good things come to those who wait and Jack has no problem waiting for Gabriel. 

In fact, he’s willing to wait till the end of time if it means Gabe will stay with him. It’s been two weeks since the disaster of a blow job on Jack’s couch and Gabe is still uncomfortable touching Jack. 

Jack sheers another set of stems for a birthday order, listening for the sounds of the doorbell in case a customer comes in. 

It’s a Wednesday, so he’s alone. Not too many people drop in mid-week, so he has no doubt that he can handle the store without his friends. 

It gives him far too much time to think. 

Gabriel’s always been a bit snappish and distant and Jack  _ knows _ he’s probably embarrassed about the panic attack. He’s just not sure if Gabriel wants to trust him with that kind of emotional burden. It’s almost as if he’s afraid Jack will run as far from him as possible.

_ It’s the exact opposite _ , Jack thinks furiously, arranging the flowers inside a terracotta vase. 

The bell jingles merrily from the front of the store and Jack rises, vase in hand, to greet the customer. 

He’s surprised to see Ana walking around, arms behind her back and dressed in a sharp, pinstriped suit. Her hair is braided over her shoulder, a silver pair of glasses at the edge of her nose as she browses the coolers. 

“Welcome.” Jack clears his throat, setting the birthday vase in the cooler behind his counter. 

She glances up with a smile, “Good morning, Jack.”

Jack rounds the counter to meet her by the cooler and her smile is still warm when he approaches, “What brings you here?”

“I am on lunch.” She muses, accent thick, “I usually eat with Gabriel, but I had a heavy breakfast and I’ve heard a rumor that you make excellent cookies.” 

Jack grins, “Would that rumor happen to be Gabriel bringing them in this morning and not sharing?”

She points, “That would be it.”

Jack laughs heartily and waves for her to follow him into the back room. 

Ana takes a seat at the small break table as Jack sets a plate, four cookies, and a mug in front of her. She’s already taken a bite out of one as he pours milk into the mug and sits down across the table. 

“He was very adamant that your cookies were sacred.” Ana hums, “I was certain he would bite my hand if I took one off his desk.”

Jack cups his chin in his hand, “I very nearly didn’t have any to put in the jar here. He took most of them with him this morning.” 

Ana laughs, polishes off the third cookie, then stares down at the last one, “You have been good for him.”

That startles Jack for a moment as he watches her downcast eyes. She looks older than her years now, weary, worried. 

“How long has he refused help?” Jack asks.

“We stopped offering.” She mutters, “After about a year. Things were worse then, I suppose.” She sets her forearms on the table and looks up at him, “He was much angrier, quick to snap, always drunk. It was Fareeha and Jesse who found him, he could barely get up the stairs.” 

Jack listens patiently, watching her eyes water at the memory.

“She called me to her home and we helped him sober up. I offered him a job and that seemed to help. He rose through my company quickly.” She smiles proudly, “It is not as bad as it was, but I can tell which days are good and which are worse.” 

Her eyes meet Jack’s across the table, “The bad days are fewer since you stepped in, but they are still there.”

“If you’re wanting me to make him get help, I can’t.” Jack croaks, “It would-.”

She slaps her hand on the table, “Jack. You may be good for him, but you are not a cure. Flowers and TV do not fix depression. They do not mend the scars he received overseas.”

“That doesn’t mean I can force him to change.” Jack growls, “That’s an insult to him.”

She closes her eyes in frustration, “And what, he should spend the rest of his life never sleeping? Fearing his own mind?”

“When and if he’s ever ready for help, he’ll get it.” Jack insists, “Every time you tell him he needs help, it’s a shot to his pride. You’re telling him he’s not strong enough. He needs to find that out on his own.” 

She looks close to tears and Jack is in the same boat. 

Gabriel means so much to them both and of  _ course _ it kills Jack that Gabe never sleeps. But, that’s not an excuse to force Gabe into doing something he doesn’t think he needs.

“Have you been inside his place?” Her voice is quiet and questioning. 

“No.” Jack replies.

“Very few get that honor. Perhaps you are not the one who will change him.”

The words sting. Hell, they sting so bad Jack’s heart hitches through his throat and it damn near knocks the breath out of him. He clenches his fist into the material of his jeans, swallowing thickly, “I’ve never asked.”

She tilts her head, “Maybe you should.” She rises from her seat, “Your cookies are as delicious as he boasted. It was good to see you again, Jack.”

He can hear her walking away, through the store and out the door with a faint jingle. His heart is pounding a mile a minute and he’s insulted. So insulted and angry and furious, because how  _ dare _ she insinuate that because Gabriel prefers Jack’s apartment to his own, that he’s somehow inferior to herself. To whoever else is closer to Gabe than Jack. 

_ It’s only been three months since you met _ , a voice in the back of his head states matter of factly. It’s too soon for Gabe to trust Jack with anything other than what Gabe is comfortable with. They have two years of memories with Gabe compared to Jack’s measly months and the weeks it took for Gabe to even acknowledge him. 

The bell jingles once more and Jack takes a heartbeat to compose himself before heading to the front to greet a hopefully more pleasant customer.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Ana has that look on her face that tells Gabriel she’s up to something. 

He’s seen that look so many fucking times in the last two years, he’d know it just by the sound of her voice with his eyes closed. Right now, she’s scanning the room on the floor where he works and seems to be monitoring the grunts in charge of the home security systems. She still looks too smug for his liking and when she sends him a smirk through the open blinds of his office, he is damn sure now that she’s done something. 

“I can not wait until Fareeha is back.” He grumbles to Amelie, who is lounging on the sofa of his office, magazine open in her hands. 

She glances back, her sleek ponytail catching over her shoulder, “Is she wearing that ‘I know something you don’t know’ look?”

He grunts, “Of fucking course she is.”

Amelie shrugs, “Maybe it has nothing to do with you.” 

“Doubt it.” Gabe snorts. Nearly half of those looks were because of Gabriel and in some ways, they were worse than the pitying looks she sent him when he hadn’t slept for days at a time. 

He watches her for a second longer before returning to filling out the paperwork for Amelie’s next security gig. 

It’s been a semi-busy week for him, but at least this time it’s legit business instead of juggling lawyers and preventing petty disputes between jackasses who can’t follow the rules. He’s gotten a decent amount of rest  _ and  _ Jack made enough cookies to feed an army last night. So, all in all, mid-week was still looking decent. 

His phone buzzes on at his elbow and he glances down to see Jack’s name above the message icon. 

J:  _ Do you want to join us for Pizza and Wine Wednesday?  _

Gabe frowns, thinking of Lena’s hyper personality and recoiling slightly at spending an evening with her. It’s easy to handle her in the shop, they don’t work in close proximity and Jack’s a good buffer between him and people. 

G: No thanks. That’s you and her time.

J:  _ You sure? Lena won’t mind and Ang is going to be there too. _

There’s a lull while Gabriel’s fingers hover over the keys to type a response, Jack beats him to it.

J:  _ Too many people? _

Gabe closes his eyes at the relief that washes over him. 

Jack instantly understanding his dilemma and his aversion to sitting in a small room full of chattering people, is like a soothing balm. He runs a hand over his head and wonders if it’s possible to like Jack even more than he already does. 

Yep, it’s called  _ lo _ -

“You should try to go.” Amelie’s voice comes from over his shoulder and he tenses in his chair, instinct to twist around and attack stifled only by sheer control. 

“I can barely spend an hour at a bar with you people.” Gabe grumbles, “Lena is a hurricane.”

Amelie shrugs, “It couldn’t hurt. You will be with Jack, yes?”

He hovers over the keys, ready to push in ‘ _ No thanks’ _ . 

He stares at the screen and wonders what will happen if he goes home alone tonight. No Jack, no blanket, no weird TV shows. Just the cool, dark of his apartment. He’s spends nights on Jack’s couch on and off, rarely finding comfort in his own bed. If he does sleep alone, he wakes to blood and screaming, then he ends up curled up on Jack’s couch anyway. Jack usually slumps away to his own bed with a mumbled ‘g’night’. Sometimes he asks if Gabe wants to join him.

Gabe doesn’t let anyone into a bed with him. His reflexes are too sharp and too quick. There’s no telling what could happen if he woke from a nightmare and hurt Jack. 

He’d never forgive himself.

“Go.” Amelie murmurs, “Try. If you don’t like it, leave. Jack will understand.”

He gives into the peer pressure and types  _ do I need to bring anything? _ Instead of  _ no. _

J:  _ You sure you’re up for this? _

G:  _ Blue blanket is mine. _

J:  _ :) _

He sets his phone down and resumes his work on the computer in front of him. He prints out the paperwork for Amelie to sign and she does so with flair and a toss of her ponytail.

“Have fun.” He waves her out the door of his office.

“Always.” She replies, the door closing with a click. 

He arrives at Jack’s apartment after work, still in his head security uniform. Angela is just knocking on the door, dressed in pajama pants with kittens on them and a hello kitty t-shirt. She’s holding a brown paper bag that he assumes has wine in it. 

She spots him and smiles, “Evening.”

Jack opens the door and rushes Angela inside, “Put the wine in freezer.” He smiles at Gabriel, “Your stuff’s in the bathroom if you want a shower.”

Gabriel relaxes his shoulders at that, letting Jack pull him in for a quick kiss as he enters the apartment. 

Jack shuts the door behind them and Gabe spots Lena lounging in a neon green bean bag chair. She sends him a hearty ‘Hiya!’ as he passes the living room to get to Jack’s bathroom. 

He takes a longer shower than usual, having second thoughts about joining the group waiting for him in the living room. 

When he joins them, the place smells of greasy pizza and Angela is popping the cork on the first bottle of wine. 

Jack has a coffee table pulled up in front of the couch and another bean bag, this one blue, is next to Lena’s on the floor beside it. 

Lena grins, “I brought them from my place, figured I’d let you lads take the couch.”

“Where do you even get neon colored bean bags?” Gabe asks incredulously, sinking into the sofa and accepting the glass of wine Angela hands him. 

It’s a deep red, smells fruity and goes down strong and smooth. 

Lena flicks through the TV channels until she rolls to a stop on reruns of Law and Order just as Jack comes in juggling two boxes of pizza and styrofoam plates. 

“Real classy set up you guy have.” Gabriel snickers as the plates mix horribly with the fancy wine glasses sitting half full on the table. 

Jack rolls his eyes and takes a seat next to Gabe, “I need everyone to eat all of this pizza.”

“All of it?” Angela eyes the boxes skeptically. 

“No cookies until it’s gone.” Jack says sternly, but with no real heat. 

“Did you make more?” Gabriel raises an eyebrow. 

Jack grins, “I hide some from you this morning.” 

Gabe elbows him with a grunt, “Ass.”

Angela laughs, “His cookies are pretty amazing, aren’t they?”

“The best.” Lena throws back the rest of her wine, “More!” 

Angela rolls her eyes and leans over to refill her glass. 

They all settle into their respective seats as the show starts up with the familiar intro. Jack is still sitting a few inches away from him, glass of wine resting on his thigh. His shoulders are tense, not overly so, but enough for Gabe to notice. Long, pale fingers tick restlessly against the stem of the glass and Gabe frowns. 

Jack’s anxious, nervous and of course he is, Gabriel groans inwardly. Gabe’s been avoiding long holds and extended contact since the blow job incident. No one handles the aftermath of panic attacks easily and Gabriel was just giving them space. He was still embarrassed, surely Jack knew that.

He puts his arm on the back of the couch and lets the tips of his fingers graze the back of Jack’s neck. His hair is getting longer, the soft, blonde strands tickle his fingers as Jack turns his head to look at him. 

Jack’s smile is tentative and gentle, mouthing ‘ _ Are you doing okay?’ _

Gabe’s heart squeezes too tight as he nods. 

Jack leans back into the contact, taking a sip of his wine and replying to something Lena says about the show. Jack’s skin is warm as he palms the back of his neck and runs the hand over the curve of his shoulder. He feels more than hears Jack’s sigh and that tense body relaxes into the couch like melted butter. 

_ Putty in my hands _ , Gabe thinks smugly. 

They watch at least four more episodes before Angela calls it a night. 

Gabe checks his phone while the girls clean up the pizza boxes. It’s well past ten and he wonders if he should go to his own place tonight and try to get some sleep. It’s risky at best, but as he watches a very exhausted-looking Jack putter around the living room with the clean-up, he knows Jack needs his bed. 

Jack’s not a raging insomniac like Gabe, he still needs eight hours of sleep and Gabe’s shitty PTSD ridden dreams shouldn’t be holding the man hostage. 

After the women leave, Jack plops down onto the couch and tips his head against the back. He turns his head to the side to look at Gabriel with a sleepy smile. 

Gabe’s heart does that stupid squeeze at the sight of it. 

“Ready to call it a night _? _ ” Gabriel questions.

Jack nods, “You gonna stay here and watch TV?” 

Gabriel sighs heavily, “No. I should try to get into my own bed tonight.” 

Jack looks worried for a second, blue eyes scanning his face, then the blonde stands up again and disappears into the kitchen. 

Gabe rises to follow him, curious. 

Jack is rummaging around in a bowl by the toaster, pushing tootsie rolls and an apple out of the way before he plucks a silver key from its depths. 

Gabe raises an eyebrow as Jack extends it to him, “In case you need to come back tonight.”

A chasm opens up between Gabe at that key, despite the distance being less than a foot. It’s earth shattering to think Jack would trust  _ him _ with something so private. This small item is the gateway to everything Jack is. His well-worn couch, his stocked kitchen that always smells of warm peanut butter, and a shower that always smells of old spice and cologne. 

Unlike Gabe’s apartment, which smells of days old dirty laundry and his bathroom hasn’t been cleaned in weeks. If Gabe’s apartment is a black hole somewhere at the end of the galaxy, then Jack’s is the sun in which it hides from. He loathes going back to it, but he has to. 

“I can’t take that, Jack.” He croaks, “It’s an invasion of your privacy.”

Jack shakes his head, “I don’t always wake up when you do, Gabe. This is actually me being selfish.” 

Jack? Selfish? “How?”

“I need to know that if it gets too bad, that I didn’t unknowingly turn you away.” Jack admits, “If you get into that headspace again, come to me.”

Gabriel scowls, “I can handle them on my own.” Anger rises like steam now, slowly, cautiously. “It’s cool that you want to help, but I  _ can _ do this on my own.”

Jack doesn’t test the water, doesn’t allow it to boil. His face stays earnest and neutral and that kinda ticks him off more. 

“I’m not saying you can’t.” It’s all he says and he lays the key on the table to their left. Gabe watches his fingers linger on it before they slip away and Jack takes a step back. “Good night.” He whispers it and twists around to leave the kitchen. 

Gabe doesn’t stop him, only bring his gaze back to the key. 

He takes it in the end.

 

\--

  
  
  
  


Jack rises early on Saturday to get a headstart on the day. 

He cooks some eggs, makes a few extra for Gabriel in case he decides to slink in. 

Last night's dreams were relatively quiet as far as Jack could tell and he hopes Gabe got a few hours in after the busy week. He digs through his clean laundry to pull out the tell-tale pink shirt of his shop, logo splashed across the front. 

The door to his apartment clicks open at seven thirty on the dot, just as he’s towel drying his hair in the bathroom. He tosses the towel over the rack and heads for the kitchen, where Gabe is already scooping eggs out of the pan and onto a plate. 

He glances up from under his hoodie when he hears Jack enter and grunts. 

“Get a few hours?” Jack inquires, shoving his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans and palming his keyring. 

Gabriel nods and slouches into a chair at the table, “You need help today?”

Jack hums, “I have a wedding order due for four, Lena will be there though.”

Gabe spears a lump of egg and shrugs, “I’ll be there.”

Jack walks over and yanks his hood back, causing Gabe to yelp and nearly drop his fork. He scowls up at Jack as he leans over and steals a kiss. 

Gabe tastes like eggs, then warm and minty like toothpaste underneath. The other man rumbles through the onslaught of Jack’s mouth, his free hand slipping behind Jack’s head. 

Jack sighs into the kiss, a shiver running down his spine as Gabe’s fingers rake through his hair. 

They part slowly, Gabe chasing his mouth for one more before going back to his eggs. 

“I’ll see you in a little while.” Jack says, exiting the apartment. 

He’s barely has the door shut behind him when he is assaulted by the color  _ green _ . He blinks twice, taking in the color before focusing in on where it originated. 

He’d recognize the hair and facial features of Genji Shimada anywhere after all the postcards he received lately.  

Hanzo is out in the hall as well, dressed in his suit for work and wearing an exasperated expression.

“You did not tell me you were visiting.” Hanzo sighs.

“Surprise!” Genji throws his arms out with a grin. His bald friend is standing beside him with the same serene smile on his face, but this time he is wearing normal clothes instead of a robe. Genji throws an arm around Zenyatta’s shoulders, “Thought you’d be happy to see me. It’s been almost a year,  _ aniki. _ ” 

Hanzo’s shoulders loosen and a soft, fond smile flickers across his lips, “Of course I am. Welcome  back, Genji.” He spots Jack, “Oh. Jack, heading to your shop?”

Jack smiles easily, tossing a wave, “You must be the infamous brother.”

Genji’s face lights up as he turns around, “Wow, your description doesn’t do him justice, Hanzo. He’s brighter than the sun!”

Jack’s a little thrown at the comment, not used to people comparing him to a giant mass of fire. “Uh, thanks?” He scratches the back of his head with a laugh.

“I am assuming it is a compliment due to your hair color.” Zenyatta’s voice is deeper than Jack expected it to be. 

“ _ My _ hair color?” Jack snickers, pointing at Genji, “Like he’s one to talk.”

Genji rubs his mane of hair with a toothy grin, “I just re-dyed it.”

“Correction,” Zenyatta raises a finger, “ _ I _ re-dyed it.”

Genji shoulders him with an affectionate grin, “You did a great job, Zen.”

The rewarding smile Zenyatta sends Genji’s way speaks volumes of the pairs relationship. He hasn’t seen love like that in a long time. 

“Come.” Hanzo interrupts, “I will rouse Jesse and we can go for waffles.”

“ _ Yes _ !” Genji cheers, then turns to wave at Jack, “It was nice to meet you!”

“You too.” Jack chuckles, returning the wave before heading down the stairs. 

He opens the shop up for the day, greeting the first gaggle of customers with a smile. 

People come in and out for a few hours before Lena shows up in a whirlwind of blue leggings. She’s already getting the wedding order set up by the time Gabriel trudges through the doors, hoodie shucked for a plain black t-shirt, but beanie covering the curly black hair underneath. 

He takes over for Lena in the back so she can get the roses re-stocked up front, while Jack haggles with a phone order of 200 daisies. 

The day shapes up to be long and tedious. 

Angela drops in on her lunch break with power salads and juices, which Gabriel curls his nose at instantly. 

Jack laughs when Angela scolds him about bad eating habits and dying young from high cholesterol. 

Gabe grumpily takes his salad to the back. 

Lena agrees to take over for a bit with Angela and Jack follows Gabe to the break table to eat.

They munch in relative silence before Jack comments on the vases lined neatly along the cooler wall. Gabe looks proud of himself for a moment, meeting Jack’s eyes across the table. 

Gabe’s eyes are so dark. Dark and aged beyond his actual years. 

Jack’s no stranger to wise eyes nor eyes that have seen things they wish they hadn’t. 

He never feels nervous with those eyes on him, Gabe’s seen everything, Jack becomes brave under that stare.

“Are you coming over for documentary night?” He asks, poking a grilled strip from the depths of his bowl.

Gabe nods, chewing thoughtfully before replying, “Dolphins tonight, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“Ugh. You’re both old men.” Lena groans from the doorway, hip up against the frame. 

Jack waves a hand at her, “Yea yea.” 

“Where’s the spice?” She exclaims, “The romance. The  _ passion _ ?”

Jack flushes instantly at the mention of their  _ passion _ . His skin goes tight at the memory of Gabriel at his back, rough hand fisted around him and voice murmuring against his skin. 

Gabriel’s grin is sharklike when he spots Jack fidgeting across the table. 

“Oh, we have enough passion, don’t we, Jack?”

Lena laughs, “You’re so red!”

Jack puts a fist to his forehead, body burning with embarrassment, “I hate you both.”

“No you don’t.” She sing-songs, twisting back around as the doorbell chimes. 

“You flush so pretty, Jackie.” Gabriel rumbles. 

Jack glances at him with a frustrated scowl, “I look like a splotchy lobster.” 

Gabriel leans forward slowly, “Oh you look nothing like seafood.” Jack heats up for a different reason when Gabriel damn near purrs across the table at him, “I would love to see what that flush looks like all over.”

Jack swallows, “Tonight, maybe?” It falls between them like a bet or a promise - or a dare. 

Gabriel’s dark gaze intensifies, “Gonna let me take you, Jack?”

It takes all of his willpower not to whimper, “Please.”

  
  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


If he’s being honest, Gabriel doesn’t know if he’s ready to step back into the sexual saddle after the last attempt, but damn, Jack’s been patient. Jack’s waited and watched, given him the space he needed. 

It isn’t Jack’s fault Gabe can’t get out of his own head. 

It was also real hard not to see the man blush, knowing that Jack was thinking of their adventure behind the counter, and not want to see the rest of it. It also didn’t help that Jack had damn near melted him to a puddle on the floor with that kiss in the kitchen this morning. God help him, Jack was trying to steal his soul with that kiss and Gabriel would gladly let him take it. 

He spends a fucking hour after Jack’s store closes tidying up his beard, wishing he had gotten a haircut. The mirror makes him look like a hobo, black curls are touching his ears now, but at least the scruff around his jaw is neat. 

He rubs on some deodorant, brushes his teeth for the third time, nearly backs out ten times. 

He’s knocking on Jack’s door by seven and the blonde greets him with a blinding smile. 

Jack’s already in his sleep pants and a purple t-shirt with a rocket on it. 

He looks good enough to  _ eat _ and Gabe is starving. 

He doesn’t even wait for Jack to let him inside before he’s crowding the man up against the wall of his foyer and pressing a desperate kiss against his mouth. 

Jack’s moan sends liquid pleasure fluttering down to his groin as Gabe kicks the door shut with his right foot. 

He wastes no time in getting his tounge involved, tasting every inch of Jack’s mouth. The blonde's knees buckle and Gabriel scoops him up with one arm behind his back, chuckling into the kiss. 

Gabe parts, letting his tongue glide across Jack’s bottom lip before chasing his jawline. 

Jack’s fingers twist into the sleeves of his shirt, body quaking against his own.. 

“Bring me to your room.” Gabe whispers. 

Jack nods quickly, wrapping his fingers around Gabe’s wrist and tugging him through the small foyer and into the living room. 

As he’s being dragged, desire courses through his veins like hot lava. But even with that distraction, he spots the vase of flowers in the center of the coffee table. 

Bright purple stalks, blood-red blossoms around them, and golden fountains pouring from the sides. The arrangement is so fucking beautiful it steals Gabe’s breath. 

He makes a mental note to ask about them later. 

Jack yanks him into his bedroom.

The room is illuminated by a lamp near the bed and it opens to the ceiling with a wash of white light. Dark blue sheets are pulled back to the foot of the bed, his dresser has two drawers open, there are dirty clothes on the floor. 

It looks like Gabe’s room only  _ brighter _ somehow, lived in and slept in on a regular basis. He has a stack of books on the side where he sleeps and a phone charger hanging limp over them. 

All those weeks of dreaming about Jack’s room and he’s finally inside it. 

Jack tugs him to the bed and pulls him down onto it with him, spreading his thighs so Gabe can fit between them. He looks like a dream against the dark sheets, face flushed, lips puffy from Gabe’s aggressive kisses.

“Get your shirt off.” Gabriel growls, grabbing the hem of his own and tugging it swiftly over his head. 

Jack does the same, hands reaching out once it’s off to grope at Gabe’s arms, pulling him down chest to chest. 

Jack kisses him this time, hip rolling enthusiastically up against Gabe’s. He’s already hard and Gabe’s almost there himself as he sinks into the kiss. 

“How do you want this?” Gabe breaks away, peppering kisses along Jack’s neck and over the swell of his pecs.

Jack tucks his fingers into Gabe’s hair, voice hitching as his mouth closes around a nipple, “It’s been a while.”

Gabe bites gently, then soothes with his tounge, “Been a while for me too.”

He meets Jack’s blue gaze over the expanse of his chest and he look determined and shy all at once. “Fuck me, Gabe.”

Gabe growls low in his chest and leans up to take Jack’s mouth in a furious kiss. 

It takes maneuvering and a few choice words as Gabe makes himself comfortable against the headboard of Jack’s bed. 

They strip down to nothing as Jack pulls the essentials from the top drawer of his night stand. The blonde is all muscle, lean and pale, a gorgeous contrast to the dark expanse of Gabe’s own skin. 

He runs a hand up Jack’s thigh as the man settles over his hips, bringing their cocks together in one smooth slide. 

Gabe hisses at the contact, reaching to grab onto Jack’s hips as the man puts a hand behind his balls and starts to prep. 

“God, you’ll be the death of me, Jack.” He hisses, watching the minute twitch of Jack’s hips as he stuffs his fingers inside. It’s fucking amazing to watch and to  _ listen _ to the soft squelch of lube helping Jack stretch to fit Gabe’s dick. “Take your time, I’m not small.”

Jack lets out a huff of a laugh at that, his dick straining and leaking profusely onto Gabe’s stomach. He looks a sight astride Gabe’s hips and it’s a surprise when Jack tosses the rubber onto his chest. 

It’s been years since he’s been inside anyone, so he fumbles for a bit with the condom until Jack helps him with steadier hands. 

His entire world bottoms out as Jack lowers himself onto Gabe’s cock. 

He’s tight, hellishly so, but it’s a sweet, thrilling tightness that pushes a surprised moan out before he can stop it. 

Jack’s face is scrunched up in concentration, fingers curled into the skin of Gabe’s chest as he sinks to the hilt. 

“Oh fuck.” Gabe hisses, “You feel  _ amazing _ . So tight for me, Jack.” 

Gabe doesn’t even know what else he says as Jack opens those blue eyes and starts moving. He rises and falls with an envious amount of control, tsking sharply if Gabe tries to move his hip to meet him. He whines the third time Jack denies him, the slow, torturous pace Jack has set is killing him.

Jack rides him like he’s taking a leisurely stroll through the goddamn park, all half-lidded eyes and breathy moans of Gabe’s name. 

Gabe’s fingernails dig half moons into the fleshy skin of Jack’s hip while his other hand clutches the metal bar of the headboard. 

“Move.” Jack’s voice is firm and Gabe groans in happiness.

He digs his heels into the mattress, moving his other hand to Jack’s hip and thrusts up in quick, staccato beats. 

Jack shouts in pleasure, breath hitching as Gabe hits just the right spot. Jack’s dick is leaking, sticky precum dripping down the sides and smearing over the hair at Gabe’s groin. 

A thought filters into Gabe’s brain as he watches Jack’s face open in pleasure, chest flushed red and face even redder. 

“What do the flowers mean?” He demands, slowing his thrusts intentionally. 

Jack gasps, eyes flying open to look down at him, “W-what?”

Gabe crooks his hips and hits Jack’s spot dead on, sending the man into a high-pitched keen that their neighbors will probably hear. “The flowers. In the living room. What. Do. They. Mean.” He accompanies each word with a thrust. 

Jack shakes his head, “F-forsythia for - for -,” He pushes his hips down to meet each of Gabe’s thrusts, arousal clogging his voice, he sounds so  _ sweet, _ “Anticipation. Red poppy for  _ pleasure _ .” Gabe hits the spot again, sending the word into a drawn out moan as Jack reaches down to stroke furiously at his own dick, “And s-stock for -  _ oh _ -,” He looks wrecked and so fucking  _ beautiful _ , “Bonds. Affection.” 

The last one sends him into a frenzy and he twists them quickly, Jack’s back hitting the mattress and Gabe’s hips canting inward. 

Jack’s spine arches under him, blonde head thrown back against the pillow. 

“Close - Gabe.” He shouts, hand still moving quickly along his cock. “Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He thrusts faster, chasing his own end, anticipating the fall. It’s so close he can almost taste it, wants to see Jack fall apart under him. 

_ Bonds. Affection. _ All mixed in and tangled with  _ pleasure  _ and  _ anticipation. _

The emotions swirl in him like a hurricane and Jack shouts his name beneath him, strings of white painting his chest. Gabe follows a second later, as though Jack is just pulling him along for the ride. 

It so  _ easy _ .

So  _ right. _

They come down from the high together, but Gabe is exhausted and his breathing labored as he rolls over onto his back. The sheets are cool under him. He closes his eyes and feels the bed dip as Jack moves away.

A wet cloth wipes him down quickly.

Jack crawls into the bed beside him and Gabe tucks him into his shoulder. So warm. So beautiful. If he dared to open his eyes, so  _ bright and brilliant _ as well. 

_ Don’t fall asleep, _ a voice warns him. 

Doesn’t sound like Jack.

**_DON’T FALL ASLEEP._ **

He forgets to listen.

  
  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


He should have listened. 

_ Blood.  _

_ Screaming.  _

_ A bomb goes off to his right. Another to his left.  _

_ Someone is shouting in his ear behind him, but he can’t turn around. Everything is white flashes and his heart rate doubles - triples, - nearly stops as- _

It is not his own shout that wakes him from this nightmare, it’s Jack’s.

Gabriel scrambles up in a bed that is not his own, hands fisting the sheets and head darting around to find the source of the shout. 

He smells the blood before he sees it as Jack tries to stem the flow from his rapidly bruising nose. 

Dread pools in Gabe’s stomach like acid. Fear clogs his throat as he grabs the edge of the sheet and moves to help Jack stop the bleeding. 

“Shit. Shit. Fuck.” Gabe mutters, eyes burning, throat dry as a desert, “Fuck. Fuck Jack, I’m sorry.” He’s babbling apologies, Jack isn’t speaking, just holding the sheets to his face. 

“Ice.” Jack’s voice is muffled by the fabric. 

Gabe hops out of the bed and makes a beeline for the kitchen, pulling out drawers and cabinets in search of ziplock bags. 

He finds them on his fourth try, loads it up with ice from the tray in the freezer and wraps it in a paper towel. 

Jack is not in the bedroom when he goes back, but in the bathroom, hovering over the sink to let the blood drip in his white sink.

The water makes the blood look even more morbid and Gabe’s chest is ice cold and tight. His skin is itching so bad he can hardly stand it. 

His eyes dart to the door. 

Escape. Evade. 

“I should have left.” Gabe mutters hoarsely, “I shouldn’t have slept with you.”

“Gabe-.” Jack tries, but it’s not any use.

“I don’t sleep with people for this very fucking -.” Gabe shoves a hand through his hair, tugs angrily, “I avoid this shit for this reason. What the fuck was I thinking?”

“Will you consider help now?” Jack mumbles, flecks of blood dripping down his lips. 

Gabe’s blood runs cold, “ _ What _ ?”

“I want to be with you, Gabriel.” Jack’s voice sounds like gravel, his nose is busted to hell. It’s already going dark around the edges. “And you need help.”

Gabe inhales sharply, “You don’t fucking tell me what I need.” The anger is irrational, Jack is  _ bleeding _ all over his sink because Gabe’s so fucked up he can’t keep from injuring someone in his fucking  _ sleep _ .

“Then being with me was a mistake?” Jack is so calm -  _ why is he so calm _ ?

“I didn’t say that.” Gabriel snaps, “I’m saying I don’t need any fucking help. I’m not a goddamn  _ toy _ Jack. You can’t just take me to a shop and fix me up,” He throws his hands out, “Here he is Mr. Morrison, good as new! It’s like the war never happened!”

“There are people that can help.” Jack tries, but Gabe lets out a snarl so vicious his eyes cast downward. 

The words are an echo of Ana’s.

“You been talking to  _ Amari? _ ” His voice rises an octave, furious, “She been coming to you for  _ status _ updates?”

Jack’s eyes shift again in shame, “She comes to me.”

“Are you fucking-.” Gabe nearly puts his fist through the bathroom wall, “No one can fucking help me!”

“You won’t let me!” Jack finally snaps. 

Gabe laughs sardonically, “You can’t  _ help _ . What does a pampered farm boy afraid of his own fucking parents know about  _ war _ ?”

Jack jerks back as though stung, forgetting that his nose is still leaking blood over his mouth and down his chin. 

“You think because I fucked you that you’re somehow  _ special _ or some shit?” He points a finger at him, “You aren’t special. You’ll never  _ be _ special.” 

_ I’ll never let you be. _

Gabe leaves the apartment with a slam of the door, heart pounding, anger and grief and panic clawing at his chest, searching for blood. 

He can’t see straight as he tries to get his key through the lock on his door. His vision swims.

Gabe’s never been around heartbreak before. He doesn’t know love the way everyone around him does. He’s never seen it in action. Never cared to. 

But Jack, oh _ Jack _ . 

Blood dripping from the nose that Gabe broke, blue eyes wide in his pale face. 

For the first time in Gabe’s life, he watched a heart shatter all over a bathroom floor. Pulverized by Gabe’s own words and his own fist. 

He slams the door behind him and slips down to the floor, the cold dark of his apartment welcomes him like snakes in the night. 

He can still see Jack’s face. 

He wonders if he’ll ever sleep again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, _so_ sorry.
> 
> Forsythia - Anticipation  
> Red Poppy - Pleasure  
> Stock - Bonds/Affection


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm dead. Here you go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any mistakes. I did a ton of editing, but I may have still missed a few things. It's also one in the morning.  
> But here ya go! 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Alcohol abuse  
> Sexual content
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

**Five**

 

 

 

 

 

Jack can’t look Angela in the eye.

In fact, he can’t do much but sit, slouched in her apartment, blood staining his shirt and nose swollen to the point where he can see it. 

She’s silent as she works, resetting his nose and making sure the break isn’t severe. 

His entire head is throbbing and there’s a high chance that if she says something to him, he’s going to break down on the toilet in her bathroom. Instead, she remains quiet, bandaging him up and handing him a couple of painkillers and a bottle of water. 

Lena is hovering by the door, wringing out her hands and looking like a lost puppy. 

Jack’s stomach is tied in knots. He’s nauseous, tired, and heartbroken. It’s depressing to say the heartbreak hurts more than the broken nose.

_ You think because I fucked you that you’re  _ **_special_ ** _ or some shit? _

It sure as hell had  _ felt _ special.

He swallows around the rising lump in his throat and finally lifts his gaze from the floor to stare into Angela’s matching blue eyes. 

She doesn’t look disappointed or angry or ‘I told you so’; she looks just as heartbroken as he does. 

“Are you going to tell us what happened?” Her voice is timid, almost as if she’s approaching a wounded animal. Which, isn’t far from the truth, but it’s almost as if -

He blinks, “He didn’t do it on  _ purpose, _ jesus, Ang.” 

She looks properly chastised and manages a weak smile, “I just wanted to check.”

He goes to bury his face in his hands and yelps in pain as he hits his nose, “Fuck.” 

“Is Gabriel okay?” Lena’s question floats in softly. 

Jack shrugs, “I don’t know. He ran out.  _ Away _ .” He can feel the burn behind his eyes, “He probably won’t even -.” He hates the way his chest hitches.

_ Don’t cry, Jack. Don’t cry _ .

Angela sets a hand on his shoulder and of course that’s what does it. 

He tumbles over the edge of upset and can feel when Lena comes to his side, her small hands on his back as she pulls him into a hug. 

It’s a solid ten minutes, but it feels like hours, when he finally calms the hitches and cleans up his face alone in the bathroom. 

Angela goes to order chinese and Lena volunteers to hit the store up for the good wine. He can hear them moving around Angela’s apartment and he wonders what Gabe is doing. 

He’s pissed at Jack. Pissed at Ana. 

Does Gabe have someone to go to like Jack does? Or was Jack it?

He heads out into Angela’s stylish living room and sinks onto the couch, watching the TV flicker on her small stand. 

The doorbell goes off a while later and Angela and Lena join him. They spread the chinese out across the glass coffee table and Lena pours the wine into tall glasses. 

His upper lip is swollen, so eating is a little difficult and he can’t smell through the clotting blood in his nostrils, but it’s nice. The entire spread is nice, Lena’s warm weight against his side is nice. 

His chest still hurts something nasty, though. 

Even with the quiet sounds of the TV and Lena asking Angela about work, he can’t focus on them. 

He just hears Gabriel’s words repeating, the anger etched into his face. It was such a startling contrast to the intense pleasure he’d seen while Gabe had whispered  _ I’ve got you, Jack _ all those hours ago.

“Jack?” Lena pulls him out of the memory and he turns to her slowly.

“You sleeping on the couch?” Angela asks.

“Do you mind?” He mutters.

She smiles and shakes her head, “Not at all.”

The girls clean up the food and the wine while he finds Angela’s spare sheets and sets up the couch for sleep. 

Lena kisses the top of his head before she heads out for the night, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before dawn. 

Angela disappears into her bedroom, leaving Jack alone, staring up at the ceiling. 

He doesn’t know if he can go home. He doesn’t know if he can walk through his doors and sit on his couch like he didn’t spend the last few weeks with Gabriel at his side. 

His bed might be the worst place of all, because Jack  _ knows _ he’s going to crawl under those sheets and imagine Gabe fucking him again. His voice and his hands and the way he looked blissed out and sleepy after they were through. 

Jack pulls the sheets up to his chin and rolls to face away from the couch. 

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Gabriel hasn’t had more than a glass of alcohol in almost two years. 

That swirls pathetically down the drain a week later when he comes home from work. 

He spent eight minutes staring at the fifth of tequila at the grocery store before tucking it in with the rest of his food for the weekend. 

Now, it’s a little less than halfway empty, sitting idle on the coffee table, surrounded by all the flowers Jack’s ever given him. 

Most of them are dead, withered away and broken. Some still hold color.

His body is warm from the booze and his vision is right between double and triple, but he doesn’t care. He leans forward and grabs the bottle, taking another swig and is grateful that the last ten sips numbed the ever present burn of good ole’ tequila. 

He gets his vision to cooperate long enough to take in his apartment, dimly lit, half his fucking lights are out now. 

The TV is off, the dirty clothes pile has spread from his bedroom to his bathroom and into his living room. 

The entire place reeks of old food and sweat. 

It clogs his throat and chest like mucus, thick and annoying. He’ll never get it cleaned, he’ll never be well enough to  _ get any of this done. _

He’s stuck forever in this black hole of an apartment because he deserves it. 

He deserves to be  _ alone _ .

He deserves to wither away into nothing with the shadows hissing in laughter around him.

Because anyone who breaks a guy’s nose and then leaves him with a broken heart in a bathroom at one in the morning deserves worse than what he’s wallowing in. 

He hasn’t slept all week, not even a nap, not even to  _ doze _ . His body feels weak and the tequila wants him to both dance a fucking jigg and pass out on the carpet. 

He does neither - just waits on the couch. 

And the top of the depression sundae was that he hadn’t seen Jack. Not once. Not even in passing. He wanted to just make sure he was okay, just for a second. Just a glimpse of him and then Gabe would retreat to his solitude. 

He’s too much of a coward to go to the shop or to even pass by and look inside. 

Angela and Lena have come and go, not even sparing him a glance. 

No, he lies, Lena has. She’d looked between torn and pitying. Then she disappears into Jack’s apartment with a sad,  _ sad _ smile and Gabriel is left in the hall, forcing himself not to beg her to let him see Jack.

The bottle is at less than half now and he wonders if he should stop. 

His phone reads ten minutes to five and with a lurch in his stomach he realizes Jack will be off soon. Maybe he can catch him at the bottom of the stairs. 

He doesn’t bother with his jacket as he stumbles to his front door and fumbles with the handle. He doesn’t even care that he leaves it wide open for the blackness within to leak into the hall. He just trips to the stairs and clutches the rails as he descends. 

He  _ has  _ to see Jack. 

He  _ needs- _

He barely makes it to the bottom of the stairs before the nausea hits. It’s a reeling, vulgar feeling and it puts his ass on the steps, stomach roiling something bad. He clenches his eyes shut against the bright fluorescents of the main lobby.

“What in the-.” Jesse’s thick accent snarls from somewhere up ahead, but Gabe can’t tell where.

“What the fucking hell, Reyes?” He hears Jesse’s boots coming closer, fast across the tile. 

“Not  _ again _ .” Another voice clips in, a different accent. He knows that one as well. He knows it  _ really _ well - works with it every day. 

He cracks his eyes open against the light and the fuzzy outline of Jesse and his stupid hat are hovering in front of him. Another figure is walking closer, hair a dark bob around her face, shorter than her mother's.

His chest hurts, “I fucked up.” He croaks.

“Are you  _ drunk _ ?” Jesse barks.

He shakes his head, knocks it against the baluster, “Fareeha, I fucked up.”

Her sigh is heavy above him and a warm, strong hand wraps around his bicep, “Help me get him to my apartment.”

Jesse’s calloused hand grabs his other arm and together they hoist him up the stairs. When they reach the top, Gabriel can make out Hanzo’s form coming out of his apartment, a bright shock of green behind him.

“Is everything okay?” Hanzo asks.

“Can ya get Fareeha’s bags, darlin’?” Jesse asks from his right side.

“Of course.” Hanzo replies.

“I’ll help.” Another voice joins in, probably the shock of green, Gabe can’t tell. His vision is damn near shot and this is blackout territory now. Or excessive vomiting. 

He feels Fareeha let him go for a second to unlock her door, relying on Jesse to hold the bulk of Gabe’s drunk weight.

“Still fucking heavy.” Jesse grunts, muscling him into the apartment when the door creaks open. 

The apartment smells stale from disuse for almost four months, but her couch is just as comfy as he remembers. 

They deposit him there and a few minutes later Fareeha is mouthing off in rapid fire Arabic into what he assumes is a cell phone.

“ _ No _ .” Gabe hisses, “Don’t call her! It’s her fucking fault!”

“Be quiet.” Fareeha snaps, “How much have you had, Gabe?”

“More than half of the bottle.” Hanzo’s voice comes far away from the front door. Jesse swears from wherever he is in the apartment.

“Anything else?” Fareeha asks, her face coming down to hover directly in front of his own, “I need to know now Gabriel.”

“No.” He snaps, “Just don’t let her anywhere near me.”

“You don’t make that call.” She hisses, “You’re off your ass. What the fuck happened?”

“Perhaps we should discuss this when he is sober?” Hanzo suggests, “Anything said to him now will fall to deaf ears.”

“Is everything alright?” He recognizes Angela’s soft voice instantly and groans outwardly at all the people witnessing this. Her soft gasp is audible from across the room, “Gabriel, are you okay?”

“He’s drunk as a skunk.” Jesse snaps irritably, “Hanzo has the bottle.” Mccree probably points to it and Angela makes a strangled noise in her throat.

“You could have alcohol poisoning.” She insists, “I need water.”

“I will fetch some.” Hanzo offers and his hazy figure exits out of the apartment. 

He smells Angela’s perfume as she comes closer, cool hands touching his face and forehead, “Overheated. Are you nauseated? Dizzy?” 

He just nods and groans again.

He’s also really fucking embarrassed, “Don’t let Jack in-.” He swallows, “I’m fine.”

“Jack is at my place.” Angela replies, “I came to get him some clothes.” No other information? He thirsts for it, wishes she would give him more. He hears Hanzo return and feels the added weight on the couch beside him as cold water bottles roll into his thigh. 

Angela instructs Jesse to hold one to the back of his neck to cool him down, then Hanzo to retrieve a trashcan in case he starts vomiting. She makes him drink an entire bottle.

It’s at that point that he knows Ana is in the room. He can  _ feel  _ her, even three sheets to the fucking wind. Her footsteps are soft and her hands are even softer as they grip the sides of his face and tip his chin up. She’s still a little fuzzy, but he can tell her face is sad, so sad.

“Oh,  _ Habibi _ .” 

“I fucked up.” He lets it out again in a rush, like he’s confessing to his mother and in a way she is. He never had a mom, just his  _ Abuela _ and she’s too far away to help. 

“Tell me.” 

The words come out like a geyser, unstoppable and hard to choke back down. 

He tells her of how beautiful Jack was and the flowers on the table and how he tried to stop himself from falling asleep. 

But Jack was so  _ beautiful _ . He says it four times. Insists she listen to him.

Jack was  _ perfect _ . “I’m the fucked up one. I left him alone in that bathroom and I ran like a coward.”

“I’m always a fucking coward.” He lets it hang in the air, knowing full well Fareeha has an apartment full of the entire floor and she’s probably tired from traveling. 

He just dumped a bunch of shit on someone’s doorstep like he  _ always _ does.

“Have you talked to Jack?” Ana asks quietly. 

“Let us go.” Hanzo’s voice is soft in the distance and after a moment, the door shuts. 

Gabriel huffs a, “No.” To Ana, who is still holding his face. 

Angela is in the kitchen behind him, probably searching for medicine to administer. Fareeha is to her mother’s right. His vision is getting better at least. 

“Why have you not talked to him?” Her voice is firm and leaves no room for argument. 

“What do I say?” He implores, “Sorry for breaking your nose? I thought you were an insurgent?” 

“Good to see you can still be a smart ass with a bottle of tequila in you.” Ana grumbles, “But that is not all you said. I know you, Gabriel.”

His stomach churns at the memory and panic creeps up the back of his throat. Jack’s face, the blood seeping down his chin, how  _ calm _ he had been until Gabriel started insulting him. The absolute destruction when Gabe told him he’d never be special. 

_ Too late. Too late. Too late. _

“You told him I needed help.” He grates the words out like poison. Her face still gives nothing away. 

“I told him that he was not a  _ cure _ .” She states, “I informed him that you were a minefield that needed to be tread on lightly.”

“Don’t avoid what I said.” Gabriel feels his face twist into a snarl, “Did you tell him to make me get help?”

She’s quiet for a moment, “Yes, I suggested it.”

He pulls his head back as though her hands burned him, “Get out.”

“This is my apartment,  _ buyu. _ ” Fareeha snorts. 

“Then  _ I’ll _ leave.” He knows good and goddamn well he won’t be able to stand up. They both know it too because neither of them say anything when he doesn’t move. 

“He told me no.”

Gabe’s brain is fuzzy, his vision is fuzzy, but fuck if his senses don’t clear slightly with those words.

“What?”

“He told me no.” She repeats, “That it was an insult to you. That when you felt you weren’t strong enough, that you would find help on your own.”

Fareeha whistles, “Quite the man you have there.”

Gabe says nothing. He tries to process Jack’s words and compare them to what happened a week ago. If he had said  _ no _ , then why would he ask if Gabe was willing to get help? 

Why?

_ I want to be with you Gabriel _ .

Oh.

His drunk brain starts to hurt, a migraine forming in a mock preview of what his morning will consist of. 

“Get some sleep, Gabi.” Ana whispers.

Angela comes around the couch with bottle of gatorade and sets it on the floor beside the couch, “Drink this as soon as you wake up.”

He nods as the women fuss over him. Fareeha grabs him a pillow and a sheet, Ana pushes his too long hair out of his face and whispers endearments down at him.

He fucked up.  _ He fucked up _ and they are treating him so well. He doesn’t understand.

“Jack-.” He mutters, “Jack is so  _ blinding _ .” 

“Is that so?” Ana tilts her head.

He lays his head back on the pillow and lets her tuck the sheets around his shoulders, “He’ll never speak to me again.”

“Perhaps.” Ana begins, “You should take his advice first.” 

He wrinkles his nose at her, “What advice?”

She smiles enigmatically, “That when you think you’re no longer strong enough - to seek help.” 

The words swirl around on repeat as his eyes slip slowly shut. They don’t leave when the alcohol eases him into sleep.

They don’t leave when he wakes.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


Sunday morning brings Jack to Hanzo’s kitchen table, a cup of tea in hand and a plateful of Jesse’s pancakes set in front of him. 

Jesse is whistling at the stove and frying eggs faster than Jack can put them away. Hanzo is eating egg over rice, chopsticks flawlessly bringing the food to his mouth. 

It’s a quiet morning.

It’s still missing something. 

_ Gabe _ .

Jack shakes the thought away, setting his mug down and digging into the pancakes. 

Hanzo stops eating for a moment to glance over at Jesse.

“Have you spoken to Fareeha?” He mutters.

Jesse shrugs, “In passin’. Still recovering on her sofa, last she said.”

Hanzo nods, “To be expected.”

Jack frowns, “Fareeha is back? The other apartment tennant?” 

“She arrived yesterday evening. Jesse was retrieving the mail on his return from the market.” Hanzo states. 

“Should I - greet her?” Jack asks tentatively. 

“I’m sure those cookies o’ yours will seem mighty fine after a long period away from the states.” Jesse grins, setting a heaping pile of eggs onto the table before taking a seat to Hanzo’s left. 

They spend the rest of the meal with Hanzo and Jesse exchanging quiet words, soft touches under the table. 

Jack doesn’t need to see it to know. 

The meal is over just as Genji and Zenyatta walk in carrying pamphlets and tour guide sheets. Hanzo and Genji share a conversation in Japanese while Zenyatta greets Jack and Jesse with his soft, barely there smile. 

“How is the drunk man doing?” Genji finally speaks in english. 

Jesse starts waving his hands frantically with a loud  _ SHHH _ .

Jack’s face drops into a scowl, “What drunk man?”

Jesse groans, tipping his head back, “Damn it, Genji.”

Genji lifts any eyebrow, “Is Jack not allowed to know?”

Zenyatta sets a hand at Genji’s elbow, “A little more delicacy, my dear.”

Genji glances between the three other men and winces, “Oh.”

“What’s going on?” Jack snaps. 

Everyone is looking at him with varying degrees of nervousness and pity. Something cold settles into the pit of his stomach because  _ drunk man _ finally sets off a sharp, shattering alarm in his head. “Gabriel?”

Hanzo sighs heavily, “Jesse and Fareeha found him on the stairs last night, what was it you said?” He glances at Jesse.

“Drunk as a skunk, darlin’.” Jesse grunts, “Angela said it was damn near poisoning. That’s a lot of tequila to put down after a two year dry spell.”

Jack’s throat clogs, “He relapsed?”

“Jumped back damn near a mile.” Jesse shakes his head, “He’s recoverin’ on Fareeha’s couch.”

“I did not know it was a secret.” Genji frowns, “I find it odd that you would hide it from him. Are they not together?”

Zenyatta tilts his head, “It is not our place to ask.”

Jack’s fingers curl into fists as his side. If he had come home instead of hiding at Angela’s like a coward, _ he _ would have found Gabe. 

“Where was he going drunk like that?” Jack asks.

Jesse shrugs, “Beats me. Ana showed up. Angela helped out. He passed out on the couch.” 

“I need to go.” Jack insists, pushing past Genji and out the apartment door. No one tries to stop him and he snaps his own door shut once he’s inside.

He stands in the foyer, back pressed to the door for a few minutes. 

He hasn’t been home in a few days, favoring Angela’s couch to running into Gabriel in the hall. The couch still has Gabe’s blue blanket draped over the arm, remote at the edge. His throat tightens at the memory. The flowers he had arranged that night are still on his table, wilted and the tabletop is now littered with petals. 

He wants to rush to Fareeha’s, a woman he’s never met, and demand to see Gabriel. Demand to know what happened. 

Why was he drunk? Did he even want to _ see _ Jack? Probably not.

He closes his eyes and breathes for a second, in and out, slowly. 

Eventually, he pushes away and heads for the kitchen, taking stock of his cabinets and refrigerator. 

An hour later, Angela is walking into the kitchen just as he’s wrapping the plate of cookies. 

He looks up at her from the covered plate and blinks.

“Cookies?” She asks carefully, “For?”

“Fareeha is back from Dubai.” Jack mumbles, “I was going to take these to her.”

“Oh. Oh Jack.” Angela coos, coming forward and putting her hands to cup his cheeks, “You don’t need to do that today.”

“I know Gabe is there. Don’t try to stop me. I just-.” He takes a deep breath, “Want to deliver these cookies.”

She nods once, “I will come with you.” 

They make the short trek to Fareeha’s apartment talking in hushed voices, Angela wondering if any babies will be born on her day off, Jack laughing softly in reply. 

He knocks twice and waits, shifting the weight between his feet. 

A younger version of Ana answers the door, dressed in a muscle tank and leggings. 

She blinks for a second between the two of them and then down at the cookies. Her face lights up.

“Hell yea. Mom wondered how long it would take you.” Her grin is sharklike as she takes the plate, unwraps it right there and takes a bite. “Less than 24 hours, you gorgeous man.”

Jack flushes at that, “You’re welcome.”

She finishes the cookie, stares him down as she starts on a second, “You’re Jack then? Gabe’s wallowing in the shower.” She points to his slowly healing nose, “That his doing? He isn’t saying much.”

“That’s a little personal.” Angela huffs.

Fareeha lifts an eyebrow, “I have an angsting 30-year-old recovering from his first hangover in two years in my apartment less than ten hours after returning home. I deserve some backstory.”

“Fair enough.” Jack rubs the back of his head, “Is that why he was drunk?”

“Oh  _ buyu _ , he was not shy about telling us why he was drunk.” She snorts, “You’re something of a celebrity up here. My _ mother _ even likes you.”

“Is he okay?” Jack asks softly.

Her easy-going demeanor changes into something softer, more approachable, “Not sure. I don’t know what’s going on. Mom went to get some recovery food for him and promised to give me what she knew.” She shakes her head, “All I can say to you is give him his space. Whatever happened needs airing out.”

“It’s not  _ Jack’s _ fault!” Angela cries out, but Jack nudges her with his shoulder. 

“She’s right. Ana was right. I’m not a magic cure.” Jack mutters, “If he wanted me to help him, he wouldn’t have left me. He doesn’t want me, Ang.”

He takes a step back, “Enjoy the cookies, Fareeha.”

“Now that not-.” She tries to follow him, balancing the plate in her hand, face earnest, “Wait-.”

He doesn’t let her finish and for the second time that day, leaves in a hurry and locks himself behind his own door.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


The pamphlet is nearly crushed completely in his hand by the time he arrives at his destination.

The bus stop is bustling with people as he disembarks, hoodie up, one hand in a pocket and the other holding onto the paper for dear life. Its shiny cover was mocking him every time the sun hit it, taunting him, telling him to go back. 

He brings the crushed paper up so he can read the map of the local area pictured on the back. A red line shows him the turns from the bus stop he’s currently loitering at. 

With a deep inhale, he follows the line, reading off street signs and fighting every instinct that’s telling him to  _ stop _ . _ No. You don’t need to do this. _

When he arrives at the building, it doesn’t look as flashy as the pamphlet. 

It’s small, grey, with a tiny parking lot on the left side and a single sign that reads ‘Overwatch Recovery Building’. 

He glances down at the wrinkled paper, squirting at the bright colors and the ‘We can help!’ motto at the bottom. 

The building doesn’t reflect the advertisement at all and he’s officially ready to turn tail and go home. 

His feet carry him to the front door instead, pushing the glass open inward. 

The hall is tile, wall lined with various type of artwork. It smells like generic floor cleaner, cigarette smoke, and some sort of floral candle. 

He ventures deeper, passing various rooms with signs for different disorders. OCD, AA, Etc. 

There’s a little desk at the end with a woman seated, glasses on the edge of her nose and bundled up tight in a powder blue sweater. She glances up at him when he approaches.

“Hi! Welcome to the Overwatch recovery building!” Her voice is too cheerful and he recoils slightly at the pitch. She notices immediately and ducks her head and adjusts her glasses, “Sorry. What can I help you with?”

Gabe doesn’t know what to tell her. 

‘I broke boyfriends nose so I’m here to learn how to  _ not _ do that in the future’?

If there even is one with Jack, that is. He lifts the pamphlet instead, “I’m a vet-.” He swallows, “A veteran.”

“Post Traumatic Stress?” She inquires with a tilt of her head.

He nods.

She smiles, “You’ll be with Winston then, I’ll give him a ring.” Her hands reach for a small landline on her desk and in a quick second she’s dialed. He can hear the ringing from over the counter and a gruff voice answers. “Someone is here for your recovery sessions, Winston.”

She hangs up after he affirms and grins, “He’ll be here shortly to take you to his office. This place gets a little confusing if you’re not sure where to go.”

He glances around the narrow halls, the many rooms, “Is it always this empty?”

She hums softly, “We don’t get many people so early in the week. Monday’s are what we call ‘cheat’ days. No one bothers to show.”

He grunts in reply, wishing he could bury himself deeper under his hood. 

Heavy footfalls make him turn to the left, where a giant gorilla of a man is walking towards him. 

The man has dark hair, skin, and is wearing what looks to be a lab coat over jeans and a t-shirt with a jar of peanut butter on the front.

“Hiya, Winston.” The woman grins, “This is-.” She pauses. 

“Reyes.” Gabe mutters.

“Reyes.” She nods, “Reyes, this is Winston, head of the PTSD sessions.” 

Winston puts a hand out and Gabe shakes it, having to look up to gauge the man’s reactions and facial features. 

Winston’s smile is soft as he pushes up his glasses, “Good afternoon, Mr. Reyes, would you mind following me?”

Gabe chances a glance down the hall to the front doors, last chance to escape. Last chance to call this bullshit off. 

He looks back at Winston. “Lead the way.”

Winston nods with what seems to be understanding and turns on the balls of his feet. He leads them down the hall, then another hall to the right, then to a small office at the end of the last hallway. He waves Gabriel in first, motioning to a couch on the far right wall. Gabe takes his seat and watches as Winston leaves the office door open and moves one of the desk chairs across from the couch. 

The man takes a seat, leans back and gives Gabe a once-over. 

“Why are you here?” It comes out without malice, more like curiosity. 

Gabriel shrugs, “Guess I need help.”

“You guess?” Winston’s eyebrows go up.

Gabe’s temper spikes, “Yea. I  _ guess _ . I don’t know how to do this shit, I don’t want to fucking be here.”

_ That _ seems to make Winston’s mouth tick into a smile, which confuses the fuck out of Gabe. He scowls at the behemoth of a man seated across from him. 

“Then why come at all?”

_ Because I broke the nose of the one person in my life who made everything fucking better. Then I left him standing alone in a bathroom after I told him he didn’t mean a goddamn thing to me when he actually means everything. _

His chest tightens at the thought, throat constricting with emotion. He looks up at Winston, who is watching him mildly, in no hurry to move the meeting along. 

“I-.” Gabriel starts, “I hurt someone close to me.”

“You’d be surprised at how many come to me because a loved one gets hurt.” Winston nods, “Sometimes you don’t realize how bad it is until you allow someone close enough to let it bleed all over them too.” He speaks from experience. It’s in the tone of his voice. 

Gabriel shakes his head, “I don’t-didn’t-hell, believe in this therapy shit.” He opens his palms to the room, “It doesn’t fix anything.”

“No.” Winston agrees, “It doesn’t. Recovery depends on you.” He leans forward in his seat, “It depends on how badly you want your life back. What were you? Special forces? FBI?”

Gabriel closes his eyes, “Black ops.”

“Damn.” Winston sighs, “You look the part.”

“Thanks.” Gabe snorts.

“Well. Let’s start with your day to day life.” Winston begins, “Your routines. Eating habits. Work habits.”

Gabe opens his eyes and scowls, “What does any of that fucking matter? I’m not here to tell you my life story, I’m here to figure out how I can  _ sleep _ without waking up to blood and bullshit memories.”

“It’s not going to be easy.” Winston mirrors his scowl, “If you’re looking for an instant fix, you’re out of luck. This takes time. This takes patience.”

Gabriel has none of that. He never has and it’s a startling realization to come to when you’re in desperate need of help. 

_ I told him he wasn’t a cure. _

Ana’s voice is stern in the back of his head, a foggy memory from his stint on Fareeha’s couch. He laces his fingers together between his knees and finally hangs his head. He has to do this. He has to follow the steps and attend the sessions and tell a complete stranger about his dreams, his fears, his depression. 

For Jack.

For his future. 

“I want to sleep again.” Gabriel mutters to his clasped hands.

“Well then.” Winston’s claps his hands together, “Let’s get busy.”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Gabriel finds himself knocking frantically on Hanzo and Jesse’s door by Wednesday morning, casting nervous glances to Jack’s door across the hall. He glances at his phone to double check the time just as the door swings open.

Hanzo early morning glare could peel the paint off a car, but Gabe isn’t deterred, “I need your help.” 

“It is five in the morning.” Hanzo states carefully, voice on the knife edge of anger.

Gabriel pushes his hood off of his head, “Look. I need your help. You, Jesse, Angela. Please.”

Hanzo pauses at the ‘please’ eyeing Gabriel as though he doesn’t recognize him, “May I inquire as to what it will be that you need?”

Gabriel grins.

  
  
  
  


\--

  
  


Jack wakes early Saturday known full well he has a high school prom to arrange flowers for. 

He crawls out of bed at four am and takes a lukewarm shower to wake himself up. 

The apartment is chilly when he steps into the living room, meaning it’s cold outside as well. He flips the heater on and pulls the blue blanket from the sofa around his naked shoulders as he putters to the kitchen. 

Twenty minutes later he has breakfast and a cup of coffee tipping him to the point of full alert. 

He probably shouldn’t have stayed so late at the shop yesterday. Or spent his entire week avoiding all of his friends like the plague because he can’t handle a little rejection. 

He’s exhausted and he misses Gabe. 

He misses Gabe something fierce. He wakes up missing Gabe and he goes to bed wishing Gabe was somewhere in his apartment. He even curls up on the couch alone and misses Gabe’s solid body up against his side. 

It’s been weeks since the ‘incident’. Jack’s nose is no longer bruised, but his heart still is. 

Lena has showed him pictures of guys in her classes, trying to pull his attention somewhere else. 

‘ _ Ain’t no use in pining for someone who doesn’t want you, Jackie.’ _

He doesn’t want to hear that. 

Even though he knows it’s true. 

_ You aren’t special. You’ll never be special. _

Jack curls over his cup of coffee, blanket tight around his shoulders and tries to reign in the flood of sadness. His eyes burn and his nose throbs at the memory. Gabe’s face was so serious in his mind. Like he didn’t care that he was breaking Jack’s heart with those words. 

Maybe Gabe never cared.

Or more likely, Gabe just needed someone warm. Needed someone and Jack just happened to be willing. 

_ Oh, you were willing alright _ , his mind provides sarcastically. 

Jack played right into it, the first kiss, the frantic handjob behind the counter. The stolen kisses under the blanket on the couch with animals bleating on the TV. Gabriel’s whispered words while he fucked Jack in his bed, the demands to know what the flowers meant. 

Was everything just a lie?

Jack set his coffee on the counter and wipes furiously at the tears rolling down his cheeks. He doesn’t have time to keep pining after someone who obviously wants nothing to do with him. 

Doesn’t want to let Jack into his world. Doesn’t want Jack to help. 

He turns angrily around in his kitchen and marches to his bedroom to get dressed. 

Fuck Gabe. 

Fuck Farheea and her ‘give him space’ bullshit after  _ Gabriel  _ was the one to destroy everything they’d built. 

He grabs his keys and wallet from where he tossed them the night before and yanks his apartment door open - ready to face the day. 

A splash of color stops him in his tracks. 

A vase of yellow tulips sits at his feet, unassuming and splendid. 

A sprig of greenery weaves through the stems and petals, the flowers open graciously to the light of the hallway. 

Jack’s hands shake as he reaches down to pick the vase up. The glass is cool in his hand and the tulips smell fresh and divine. 

A white card is hanging from a ribbon around the neck and he flips it.

**There is sunshine in your smile.**

Jack’s heart flips violently in his chest, eyes wide as his trembling fingers hold the card. He clutches the vase close to his chest as he locks his apartment door and heads down the stairs. 

Genji is at the mailbox, digging through Hanzo’s mail and only looks up when he see the flowers.

“Nice flowers.” He comments.

“Yea.” Jack mutters reverently, walking in a daze. 

Genji chuckles, “Have a good day at work, Jack.”

Jack nods numbly and walks across the street to open his shop. 

He sets the vase next to the cash register, reluctant to let them go as he moves around the shop to get it ready for opening. His eyes stray to the bright yellow petals every time he reenters the main shop area. 

They are breathtakingly fresh and bright even among all the countless other flowers that litter his coolers. 

Logically, he knows they are from Gabriel. The would have to be. No one else would. 

But why?  _ Why? _

_ You aren’t special. _

_ You’ll never be special.  _

He is still staring at them when Lena comes in at open, a box of doughnuts balanced in one and and two coffees in a holder in the other. She sets the food on the counter between him and the flowers and gaps.

“Oh!” She whispers, “Those are lovely. Are they an arrangement?” Her fingers reach for the card, flipping it just as Jack did earlier. He watches her bottom lip tremble slightly, “Are these from-?”

Jack shrugs and returns to refilling the corsage cooler, “Dunno.”

He can feel her eyes burning into his back, “Jack.”

His fingers slip on one of the packages and it falls to the floor, “I don’t know Lena.” He snaps, reaching down to pick it up, “I don’t-.” He sets the flower gently inside the cooler, closes the door and presses his forehead to it. “I’m been trying so hard to get over him, you know?” He huffs out a wet laugh as her hand falls against the middle of his back, “It’s been weeks without any texts or even bumping into him in the halls. I thought-.” He shakes his head, “I was ready to get over him-.”

Lena laughs softly and he bristles at that, “Too hard. Too fast.” 

“I know.” Jack shudders, “I  _ know.” _

  
  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


The next Saturday brings him to his door as he’s running late, a tall thermos of coffee tucked under his arm as he frantically tries to tug on his black jacket. 

He nearly trips over the vase in the hallway, dropping the thermos onto the ground as he grabs the doorframe to keep himself from tumbling ass over feet. 

The vase is a sea green this time and it’s bursting with daffodils. Full to the brim and then some, with a bright green card hanging from the swoop of its neck. 

He picks it up first, then the thermos, tucking it back under his arm - then reads the card.

**The sun was always shining when I was with you.**

Jack tries to fight the smile, the burning happiness bursting in his chest. He chances a glance towards Gabe’s door, but it’s not open, and the floor is silent. He wants to knock, to beg, to plead. 

Please take me back. Do you want me back? Was there something to  _ have _ back?

He goes to work instead and huffs at the flowers longingly while Lena puffs up a display of tulips. 

“I wouldn’t confront him yet.” She suggests.

“Why?” Jack cries, “Isn’t this him trying to get my attention?”

“Of course.” She rolls her eyes, “But look at the  _ message _ he’s trying to relay. This is all past tense information.”

Jack frowns down at the flowers. Past tense? Yea, he could see that.

He runs a self conscious hand through his blond locks and frowns, “Am I really that bright?”

Lena chuckles, “You’ve always been bright.”

“Seems cliche.” Jack shrugs.

Lena nudges his shoulder, “Not to someone whose entire world might have been dark before you.”

He thinks about her words for the rest of the week.

  
  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


“The first step to clearing out the bad headspace is to rearrange your living space.” Winston points a pen at Gabe from across the room. 

Gabe wrinkles his nose at the idea of cleaning, “Most of the time Amelie or Ana comes to clean.”

“No.” Winston snaps, “You need to do it. You’re telling me it feels like a black hole? That’s the depression. The snakes? The oil slick thick feeling? That’s your anxiety. Your fears. You’ve let them fester.”

Gabe huffs, crosses his arms over his chest and leans back into the couch, “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad.” Winston snorts, “Have you let Jack in?”

Gabe scowls to the right, “No.”

Winston puffs out a breath, “You haven’t even talked to him, have you?”

“I’m not  _ ready _ .” Gabe hisses, “I’m not-.” He waves a hand down his frame, “I’m not ready for him yet. I’m handling it.”

Winston curses under his breath and lifts his eyes to the ceiling, “Clean your apartment. Air it out. Change your lights.  _ Buy _ a new piece of furniture. Make it  _ your _ space and not your PTSD’s space.” 

“That’s it? Move some shit around? That’s your advice?” Gabe snorts derisively. 

“Get out of my office, Reyes.” Winston rolls his eyes, “Session over.”

“Yea, yea.” Gabriel waves his hand while he stands, hovers at the door for a moment, “Thanks.”

Winston nods, “See you next Monday, Gabriel.”

Gabe stops by the hardware store on his way home to grab some light bulbs and cleaning supplies. 

He nods to Jesse in the lobby, who is trying to steal a goodbye kiss from Hanzo, before work. Jesse gives him a thumbs up while Hanzo huffs a kiss to Jesse’s cheek before following Gabriel up the stairs. 

“I love ya’ honey!” Jesse calls from behind them.

Gabriel rolls his eyes. 

Hanzo snorts, “And I you.”

Gabe can see the blush high on his cheeks once they reach the top together. Jesse’s always been a bit overly affectionate. Good to see someone who takes it and enjoys it. 

Hanzo glances down at his bags, “Spring cleaning?”

Gabe grunts, “Something like that.” He moves to his side of the hall to unlock his door and he can still feel Hanzo watching him. 

“Your flowers confuse him.” Hanzo finally says, “He is unsure. Angela says he stares at them for hours and sighs and sometimes he becomes incredibly upset.”

Gabe’s shoulders tense, “I’m not ready to see him yet.”

“I understand.” Hanzo hums, “I was not always clear on my intentions with Jesse, it caused a rift for a time. Your healing must pass at its own speed.”

Gabe glances back at him, hand on his door knob as he waits for Hanzo to finish, “But perhaps you should give him something to look forward to.” He tips his head, “Some, how does Jesse say it? Oh. Food for thought?” 

He slips into his own apartment as Gabe does the same, shutting his door with a soft click. 

Hanzo’s words chase him deeper into the blackness of his apartment, eventually fading away as the snake's hiss within. 

He stares at the mess of clothes, he tried a few times to pick up the last few weeks. 

His kitchen isn’t too bad anymore, but the amount of work is still overwhelming. He tries to talk himself out of it, to toss the bags into a closet and try again another day.

_ No _ .

He shakes his head and sets his bags onto the couch. 

He starts with the lights, pulling out old ones and replacing them with new ones. With each new light, a dark corner disappears, a snake retreats into its hole. 

He moves through the apartment with ease once the lights are all on, the slick of oil is almost gone. He gathers up all the clothes, stuffs them in trash bags for laundry day. 

It takes him over an hour to clean and organize his kitchen. Another hour to pull the sheets from his bed and put new ones on and then clean his bathroom. 

By the time dinner rolls around, he’s collapsed onto his sofa, TV on low and staring incredulously around his clean apartment. 

Fareeha joins him with takeout and beer, whistling low as she enters the place.

“Good Job,  _ Gabbi. _ ”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Jack is 100% sure the flowers are from Gabe.

He’s also 100% sure that one of his friends is helping because only three people have the key to Jack’s store. 

Lena, Jack, and Angela. 

He had been a little disappointed to walk out into the hallway and it be empty of flowers. His heart had been downtrodden and pathetic the entire walk across the street. 

That was until he unlocked the door and found an pearl vase of striped carnations sitting on the counter of his shop. The card is not tied around the vase this time, but is instead propped up with  _ Jack _ written in gold on the front. He picks it up gently and turns it over.

His breath hitches at the words.

**I wish I could be with you right now.**

_ Why can’t you? _ He thinks frantically,  _ What’s stopping you? _

He puts the card to his lips and closes his eyes. 

The flowers smell intoxicating from the short distance and the card itself carries their scent to his nostrils. He wants to bury his face in them, inhale their aroma and bask in the feeling of  _ maybe _ . 

Maybe he still has a chance.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


The last vase of flowers arrive on a chilly Sunday morning. 

Jack is craving Jesse’s pancakes and would tackle small children for a hot cup of Hanzo’s tea. 

He moves around his apartment in his pajamas, the last three weeks of flowers lined up along his kitchen counter. Some were hanging from clips along the underside of his cabinets to dry them out, others still sat in their respective vases waiting their turn. 

Gabriel hadn’t sent any this week and Jack pretended it didn’t bother him. It did though and the thought alone was enough to cause him frustration. 

The last vase is sitting where the others sat, but this one was bursting with purple Hyacinths. 

He sweeps down to pick them up and his hands are trembling again. His heart jumps ahead, because he doesn’t need to look at the card to know what these mean. He’s stared at them himself every day, debating on whether he should send them to Gabe. 

He reads the card anyway, black splotchy ink against crisp white paper.

**Forgive me?**

Jack doesn’t hesitate.

He shuts his door quickly and rushes down the few feet to Gabe’s apartment and knocks. He knocks with a desperation he didn’t know he had, breathing hard as hope swirls like a whirlpool in his chest. 

When Gabe opens the door, Jack’s heart soars. He feels his eyes water, mouth trembling as he takes in the healthy shape of Gabe’s face. The dark circles are faded, his beard his trimmed, his hair is long, curling past his ears in dark waves. 

“Yes.” Jack chokes out around the happiness.

Gabriel lets out a breath of air and pulls Jack inside, “Thank fucking god.” He takes the vase from Jack’s hands and sets it on the table by the door. 

Jack whimpers when Gabe shuts the apartment door with his back and leans in to capture Jack’s mouth in a soul-searing kiss. 

Jack kisses back just as eagerly, soft, needy moans leaking between them as their tongues tangle, trying desperately to remap each other mouths. 

“Missed you, Jack.” Gabe breathes against his lips, pulling away to mouth at his cheek, his jaw, his neckline.

Jack’s knees buckle and Gabe catches him, continuing to press warm, wet kisses against his neck and back up to his mouth. 

“We-.” Jack tries, “We need to talk-.”

“Of course.” Gabriel murmurs, “But let me re-learn you, Jack. Let me do it right this time.”

How does Jack say no to that?

“Yea.” Jack nods, “Please, Gabe.”

Gabriel’s answering growl is nothing short of erotic against Jack’s cheek and he parts far enough away to take Jack’s hand to pull him deeper into the apartment. 

Jack is nervous about wading through Gabe’s territory, after being denied it for so long. The room is a mirror of Jack’s own, with considerably less furniture. It looks like Gabe’s place though, it reflects everything Gabe is in one tiny little room. 

The thought fades as Gabe yanks him into the bedroom and pulls him back against his chest, chuckling softly. 

“I have been dreaming of getting you in my bed for weeks, Jack.” Gabriel murmurs, lifting a hand and running the backs of his fingers over Jack’s cheek. 

Jack’s heart stutters, “What took you so long?”

Gabe smiles sadly, “Me. I wasn’t ready.”

Jack closes his eyes when Gabe kisses him this time, whining openly into it, hands fisting into the material of Gabe’s shirt. 

Gabe reaches down in one motion, lifting Jack by the backs of his thighs and depositing him gently onto the bed. 

Jack watches Gabe hover over his legs, dark eyes watching Jack with the same burning desire from their first night together. 

The lust flares hot in his belly as Gabriel yanks his shirt over his head before slipping his hands up and under Jack’s own.

It takes only a few minutes to shed their pants as well and Gabe pushes Jack further across the bed with his thighs, before parting them with his hands and pressing their hips together. 

Jack sighs when their cocks meet, both hard and straining against the fabric of their boxers. Gabe mouths wet, open kisses up his belly to his nipples, muttering soft words against his flesh. 

Jack whines, fingers curling into his hair and yanking him up further so he can take his mouth. 

Gabriel obliges with a soft chuckle, devouring Jack as he rolls their hips together.

The kiss for a while, hips pressing eagerly, hands exploring backs and thighs and hidden spots. Gabe parts to tug at Jack’s ear with his teeth and a shiver slips down Jack’s spine when his voice mutters, “Turn over for me, Jack.”

Jack rolls with no question and Gabriel slips his boxers down and off, tossing them over Jack’s head onto the floor. Jack lifts his hips slowly, knees spread along the surface of the sheets as he glances back at Gabe.

Gabe, who looks damn near reverent as he smooths a hand over Jack’s ass. The other man licks his lips once, twice before spreading Jack’s cheeks and diving in. 

Jack’s back arches as he cries out against the sensation, fingers curling into the sheets as Gabe’s tongue licks over his hole. 

“ _ Gabriel _ .” Jack gasps, panting harshly as Gabe eats him out, mouth fever hot against his ass and fingers digging red into the flesh of his spread cheeks. 

“That’s it. Sing for me.” Gabriel rumbles against him, and Jack hears the click of a bottle and then a cold finger is entering him. The stretch burns in the best way and he pulls the blankets to his mouth as Gabe slips another beside the first. 

He works Jack open torturously slow, pressing kisses to the skin of his thighs and tugging loosely at his dripping cock. 

“Gabe-.” Jack pants, “Gabriel -  _ please _ .”

Gabriel chuckles darkly, removing his fingers, “What do you want?”

Jack swallows, “You. Just you, I want you.” 

The other man kisses up his spine, tongue brushing the vertebrae in passing as he reaches Jack’s neck. 

Jack can feel his cock pressing wet and slick against Jack’s hole, he clutches desperately to the sheets, his hips jerking back to meet Gabe’s. 

“Patience.” Gabriel murmurs against his skin, “Let me take you slow.”

Slow is torture. Slow is Gabriel speaking only affection against the flesh of his shoulder as his cock breaches him. Gabe’s breath is warm and hitched, his cock thick and rubbing Jack in all the right ways as he slides home. 

When Jack feels Gabe’s hips press against his ass, he clenches down, ripping a startled gasp from the man himself. 

“Oh,  _ Jack -” _ Gabriel gasps, pushing up to grasp at Jack’s hip, pumping steadily inside of him. “So beautiful for me.” 

Jack rolls back to meet him with every thrust, voice wrecked as he cries out. 

Gabriel increases speed with every cry Jack lets escape, hips bruising Jack’s ass as he thrusts in and out. Jack’s dick is straining, angry red between his legs and dripping lewdly against Gabe’s black sheets. 

He lets out a scream of Gabe’s name when he thrusts at just the right angle. His fingers scramble for purchase as Gabe grabs his hip with one hand and his shoulder with the other and  _ slams  _ into him. 

The pleasure is so intense it sends sparks of fire along his groin and he comes without even touching himself, eyes wide and mouth open in a scream. 

Gabriel lets out a ragged groan behind him as his hips snap three more times before he locks up against his back, hands roaming reverently as he comes inside.

Gabriel pulls away first, squeezing Jack’s ass as he slips off of the bed and retreats to the bathroom. 

Jack’s thighs are shaking and his heart's still pounding and he’s  _ crying _ . 

When Gabriel returns, he has a wet cloth and a change of sheets for the bed in his arms and he chuckles, “That good?”

Jack lets out a shaky laugh, “I don’t know if I can move.”

Gabriel hums in satisfaction as he cleans Jack up and helps him maneuver off of the bed so they can change the sheets. Once the sheets are changed and they are both naked under the clean ones, Gabriel pulls Jack into his side and sighs. 

“This okay?” Jack asks softly, “Do I need to - leave?”

Gabriel squeezes his shoulders. “Sleep.”

Jack does.

  
  


\--

  
  
  


Gabriel gets a full four hours before the dream wakes him. 

It’s not a sudden, violent reaction when he wakes up, it’s slow and warm and sad. He sits up slowly and watches Jack mumble once before rolling over to the other side of the bed. 

He climbs out of the sheets and goes to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, noting that it’s a little before noon. His body is loose in the best of ways and his kitchen is  _ clean _ . His entire apartment looks brighter and no shadows are lingering to snap at him. 

And Jack is in his bed. 

He hears Jack call his name and he abandons his coffee to see what’s up. 

Jack is sitting, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he glances around the room, “Did we really sleep till noon?”

Gabe chuckles, “Technically. I’m making coffee.”

Jack sighs happily, “Awesome.”

They stare at one another for a while, before Gabe decides to break the ice, “I need help Jack.”

Jack says nothing, only tilts his head.

“I need a lot of help. I need years of help, this shit isn’t going to go away permanently and I can’t promise I won’t hurt you again.” 

Jack smoothes the sheets with his hands, “Okay.”

Gabriel’s brain screeches, “Okay? That’s it?”

“Okay.” Jack nods, “The only promise I need is that you’ll  _ let _ me be apart of that help. Whether you want me to be a friend and help or be -  _ with _ you and help.”

Gabriel already knows what he’ll be. “I fucking lied when I said you wouldn’t be special.” He shakes his head in shame, “You were already there, you were there faster than anyone else in my life. I was just so scared - shit Jack, I broke your nose.”

Jack laughs, “Yea, that part didn’t hurt near as bad as your words.”

Gabe feels the guilt twist and climbs into the bed to grab Jack’s face and kiss him.

Jack sighs softly into it, enjoying the kiss and muttering Gabe’s name between them. 

“I want you to be with me at the next session.” Gabe says the words before he can think about them too long.

Jack kisses him again, “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.” Gabe nods.

“Then I wouldn’t miss it.” Jack sighs and flops back against the pillows, a dreamy smile of the recently fucked on his face. He waits for a second and Gabe can see the gears turning over in his head, Jack hums, “Think Jesse will still have pancakes?”

Gabe’s laughs, “You fucking know it.” He slaps Jack’s thigh, “Get some clothes on.”

They both scramble for clothes, laughing between the two of them as they mix up shirts and pants and socks. 

Gabriel chugs a cup of coffee while Jack shoots off a text to Hanzo, who is quick to reply with a ‘p _ lease come get rid of this food _ ’. 

Gabriel follows Jack out of the apartment and into Hanzo and Jesse’s. 

Fareeha is kicked back on the sofa with her own plate piled high and Angela beside her with a green smoothie. 

For the first time in two years, he doesn’t think about the snakes or the oil slick or the dreams. 

He puts himself at Jack’s side and tucks into his pancakes with a smile.

 

 

  
  
  


**End**

  
  


 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank all of you for the comments, the kudos, the LOVE both here and on Tumblr. You have all been my driving force behind this fic and it has been a pleasure writing for you.
> 
> There WILL be an Epilogue. Once my house plans are turned in and school cools down, I will have that up for ya'll. For now, it will be marked complete. 
> 
> Other news: I will be writing a companion fic to this one for Hanzo and Jesse. I'll release more details later! For now, enjoy the high. Just take it in.
> 
> Thank you, all of you.  
> Words can not express my gratitude.
> 
> Yellow - Tulips - There is sunshine in your smile  
> Daffodils - The sun was always shining with you  
> Striped Carnations - I wish I could be with you right now  
> Hyacinths - Forgive me?


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I did it. It's nothing too fancy, but it's been rumbling around in my head for a while. Plus, I needed some of the characters to appear in order to bring in the Mchanzo companion fic. 
> 
> So without further ado,
> 
>  
> 
> _Enjoy._

 

 

**Epilogue**

  


__  
  
  


_ Eleven months and three weeks later _

__  
  


Gabe wakes slowly, the world groggy and warm around him as his brain flickers back on. 

The sun is bright through Jack’s window, sheer blue curtains doing nothing to stop the beams from infiltrating the room. There’s a soft, barely there touch running down his spine and the smell of coffee is strong. 

Recently made, strong. 

He lifts his head slowly and rises up onto his elbows, twisting his neck around to see what was touching him. 

Jack is seated cross-legged on the bed, a purple forget-me-not in hand and the other cupping his chin as he glides the petals along Gabe’s spine. 

Jack’s in his boxers, but he’s freshly showered and watching Gabriel with the dopiest grin possible. 

Gabriel gives him a suspicious look, “What’s the occasion?”

Jack blinks and brings his gaze up to meet Gabe’s, “You slept the entire night.”

Did he? He can’t remember when he fell asleep, but the clock on Jack’s side of the bed reads 7:35  _ in the morning _ . 

“When did I fall asleep?” He mutters.

Jack grins, “About ten.”

Gabe frowns, “As in last night?”

Jack laughs softly and bends down to press at kiss at the base of Gabe’s spine. It sends a tingle across his skin as Jack’s hand slides up his back to settle into his hair. 

Jack’s fingers thread through the curls, Gabe’s been growing them out. Long gone is the beanie unless he’s at work. 

He sighs into the tugs and kisses, wondering faintly why sleeping warrants such praise. Not that he’s complaining. 

“No nightmares.” Jack mutters about midway up his back, forehead pressed to the skin there. 

Gabriel stares at the headboard, chest tight and elated, “I slept uninterrupted for eight hours.” The words come out foreign on his tongue. 

It’s been a messy year of bruised skin and screaming, nightmares that refused to leave him. The sessions still helped and Gabe hasn’t been as bad, but he still only slept five or so hours at a time before the dreams woke him. 

It hasn’t been easy, he thinks, as Jack resumes peppering his back with dry kisses. 

Gabe found out less than three months into their relationship that the calm Jack from the bathroom incident was not how Jack handled his normal fights. 

He was ruthless and struck where it hurt and a few times, Gabe had thought it was over. They brought out the worst in each other half the time, and the other half was just unwavering support and a friendship Gabe’s never known before.

“As nice as this is,” Gabe starts, “It’s nothing to get all weepy about, Jackie.”

Jack chuckles against his skin, “I can be happy about it for you.”

Gabe grins lasciviously and tips his head back to try and look at Jack, “You gonna give me a reward ? ”

Jack’s eyes dilate and his fingers tighten into the skin of Gabe’s sides. He presses one final kiss to the dip of his back and growls, “Roll over.”

Gabriel is more than happy to comply, twisting under Jack’s form and pushing the blanket the rest of the way down the bed with his feet. 

Jack’s eyes are focused as he yanks Gabe’s boxers down his legs and tosses them off to the right. 

A lick of lust scraps down his stomach and settles at the base of his slowly hardening cock. Jack murmurs appreciatively as he wraps a firm hand around it and gives an agonizing stroke. 

Gabe rumbles in pleasure, watching Jack with a heavy-lidded gaze. 

“Best way to wake up.” He grins, putting both of his arms behind his head. 

Jack gives a sarcastic snort and a lifted eyebrow in Gabe’s direction, causing his grin to get even bigger. 

He wiggles his hips, “Put that mouth to good use.”

Jack does. If there’s one thing Jack excels at more than his floral skills, it’s giving a truly epic BJ. 

Gabriel lets out a groan as the wet heat of Jack’s mouth swallows him down to the base in one go. 

Jack’s hands tighten on his hips, keeping the pleasure driven jerks to a minimal as he drags his mouth up and down Gabe’s cock. Gabe digs his nails into the pillow under him and tips his head back, mouth open and gasping at the feeling. 

He whispers praise, babbling like a moron as Jack sucks and slurps his way around his dick. It’s a heady experience and the lust curling at the base of his spine is almost too much. 

He comes down Jack’s throat with a heavy whine and a sharp arching of his back. 

Jack’s thumbs rub into the dents of his hips as he swallows, slipping off with a soft sigh and pressing a wet kiss to Gabe’s stomach. 

Gabe’s chest heaves with the intensity of the orgasm, staring up at the ceiling with a grin, “Awesome.” he glances down his body.

Jack chuckles and sits back on his heels, “You’re welcome.”

Gabe glances over at the clock. If he’s quick, Jack can make it just in time to open the front doors of the shop. “Come here.” 

Jack climbs up on Gabe’s chest, leg on either side and Gabe makes quick work of pulling out Jack’s dick through the opening of his boxers. 

One of Jack’s hands fists into the pillow behind Gabe’s head as he curls his chest forward against the pleasure. 

“ _ Gabe _ .” 

Gabe hums, stroking fast and quick, just the way Jack likes it. The blonde gasps and whimpers, hips shifting and pushing into Gabe’s fist. He comes fast and dirty across Gabe’s pecs, breathing heavy and Gabe’s name a soft mantra.

He drags Jack down by the back of his neck and kisses him, tasting himself on Jack’s tongue. 

Jack sighs into it, coming down from his own high. 

Gabe pulls back slowly, “Go to work. I’ll bring breakfast in a bit.”

Jack nods slowly, climbing off of Gabe and the bed. 

Gabe watches him grab some clothes from his dresser, tugging on pants and a blue shirt. He should probably get up and clean himself off, but he waits and watches Jack come back to the bed for another kiss before disappearing into the apartment. 

He waits for about ten minutes, listening as Jack walks the rest of the apartment, probably filling his thermos with coffee and packing his lunch. It isn’t long before the door clicks shut and Gabe gets out of bed. 

He shoots a text off to Jesse, grabs a shower and gets dressed for a day of flower arrangements. He’s just arriving at the diner to pick up the order he placed for him and Jack, when Jesse’s number lights up his phone screen.

They talk for a few minutes, as Gabe pays for the order and thanks the woman behind the counter. She gives him a wink as he backs away with his bags and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her how absolutely gay he is. 

Jesse is still talking and Gabe can hear the whirring of a rivet gun in the background, which means the man’s at work.

“I thought you took today off.” Gabe grunts, making his way out onto the sidewalk. 

“ _ I tried _ .” Jesse snorts, “ _ Torb is a fuckin’ slave driver _ .”

Gabe can hear Torbjorn’s sassy swedish remark in reply and Jesse laughs. 

“ _ So is Jack suspicious at all _ ?” Jesse asks. 

“Nope.” Gabe pops the P firmly, “And he isn’t going to be.”

“ _ Jack’s a pretty sharp, fella’ _ .” Jesse hums, “ _ Better watch yourself. OH. And Angela and Fareeha want ya at the apartment as soon as yer day is over.” _

Gabe frowns at that, “Okay. Sure. I’ll just do that.” He rolls his eyes and hangs up, pushing through into Jack’s store. 

Jack glances up from a customer, smile bright when he spots Gabriel.

“Food.” Jack groans happily, “You’re a god, Gabe.”

Gabe grins, “I know.” and sets the food on the table, giving the woman paying Jack a smile. “Got something for me?”

Jack nods as he scribbles out the woman's order, “Yea. Three. They’re on the board. This one is for Monday.”

“Thank you so much, Jack.” The woman gushes, “I’ll be here Monday morning.”

She leaves with a jolly ring of the bells and Jack digs into the bags, pulling out his box of food and a utensil pack. 

Gabriel snorts, “Slow down, it’s not going anywhere.”

Jack frowns, pops the lid and salivates visibly at the chicken fried steak and eggs nestled in the box, “You’re almost an hour late.”

Gabe shrugs, “If the diner delivered, then I would have been here sooner.” He grabs his own box, steals a kiss, and heads to the back to start filling orders. 

He’s halfway done with the second set of vases when Lena knocks on the cooler door, grin a mile wide and dressed in neon pink leggings. Gabe frowns at her, “What?”

“Are we meeting at Fareeha’s tonight?” She whispers, leaning in through the door and casting a glance to the entry of the main shop.

Gabriel sighs, “Yes.”

“I’m so excited for this.” She laughs, “This is going to be so good for you and Jack.”

Gabriel grunts and looks down at the vase full of Calla lilies, “I’m kind of worried he’s going to say no.”

Lena frowns and enters the cooler fully, squatting down in front of Gabe, “Nonsense. It’s been almost a year. A  _ year _ .”

“It’s been a hard year.” He mutters. 

She plops onto the ground now, resting her hands behind her, “Yea. It has. But you’re  _ recovering _ .”

“Recovering doesn’t mean I’m good enough to -” Gabriel flicks one of the petals on the lily, “To ask that of him.”

“Well, you won’t know until you try.” She huffs, “Just come to Fareeha’s and we’ll walk through it, yea?”

He nods, “I’ll have to make up an excuse with Jack.”

__  
  


\--

__  
  
  
  


Jack’s never had an anniversary with anyone. 

None of his relationships ever lasted long enough, because back when he actually  _ did  _ date, it was in secret. 

Jack doesn’t like to be anyone’s secret. 

He’s never been ashamed of his preference, but at the same time, he would part ways with his partners as amicably as possible. Just because Jack was comfortable in his skin, didn’t mean everyone around him had to follow suit. 

Which is why being with Gabriel was so  _ easy. _

Gabe didn’t hide.

However, it may have more to do with the fact that Gabriel was incapable of hiding  _ anything _ . For a man who excels at espionage and has a security clearance higher than the Eiffel tower, Gabriel Reyes is absolute shit at hiding from Jack. 

Which leads him to starring Gabriel down in the middle of his shop at four thirty in the afternoon on a Saturday. 

Gabriel looks determined, Jack’ll give him that, but he’s also doing his damndest to stare past Jack’s head instead of looking him in the eyes. 

“You made other plans?” Jack asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gabriel nods firmly, “Yep. Shouldn’t run too long though. I’ll be at your place later.”

“So, do I need to make you a plate?” Jack tries to ignore the angry tug in his stomach, it isn’t jealousy, he doesn’t think. It feels an awful lot like it though. 

“Nope.” Gabe starts backing to the door, “I’ll grab something while I’m out.” The bell jingles as Gabe pushes it open with his hands, “I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

The ‘okay’ Jack let’s out leaves him a little raw. He drops his arms to his sides and watches Gabriel cross the street in a hurry. He rubs his chest to try and wipe away the sting of worry burrowing there. He gets the shop set up to close, texting Angela as he locks up. 

She’s working another graveyard, so he’s on his own for the night. Lena isn’t answering her phone. 

He glances around the road, debating on what he wants to do for dinner. He settles on thai, calls to place the order and heads to his apartment. 

__  
  
  


\--

__  
  
  
  


Any other man would be ecstatic to be in apartment full of gorgeous woman. 

Realistically, it’s a disaster. 

Lena is flitting all over the place, pouring wine and constantly changing the TV channel. Angela and Fareeha are in the kitchen, heads bent together and talking softly. He casts a knowing eye in their direction. 

“How long has that been going on?” He asks, jerking a thumb in their direction.

Lena shrugs and plops down on the sofa next to him, “Couple of weeks? Ugh. It took them both  _ forever _ to just ask.”

Gabe lifts an eyebrow, “It took Fareeha Amari forever to ask someone out?”

Lena groans, “Angela gushed for months after they met here.”

Gabe winces as he remembers his little relapse upon her return. 

He watches the two of them re-enter the living room, Angela holding a pot of curry and Fareeha carrying plates and spoons. Fareeha hands out the ware and they all dig into the curry. 

“Okay,” Fareeha says around a full mouth, “What’s your gameplan?”

“I was just gonna ask him.” Gabe frowns, “I don’t see why we needed a meeting.”

Angela puts her face into her hands, “This is big. This is a huge step for you.”

“Uh, duh.” Gabe snorts, “Why can’t I do it my way and just  _ ask _ him? You know, fuck his brains out and then go ‘hey, want to move in with me?’”

“ _ Men _ .” Fareeha groans in irritation.

Gabriel doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about. 

He’s just asking Jack to move in with him. 

Into his house, which he has meticulously cleaned, and aired out in the last eleven months for this very fucking reason. Because he cleaned out his shit and now he wants Jack’s stuff with his stuff. He wants that bright, gorgeous creature waking up and making his apartment a better place.

“I don’t get the theatrics.” Gabriel mutters into his glass of wine.

“It’s special.” Lena pats his arm, “Get his favorite flowers. Make him a nice dinner. Ask him during dinner.”

Angela nods, “Yea, explain why it would be a good idea. Tell him how you feel.”

“You do realize we’re  _ dudes _ right? Feelings don’t come out like that with us.” Gabriel squints at them, “Gay doesn’t mean we automatically aren’t emotionally stunted.”

Fareeha rolls her eyes, “Whatever.”

“Jack is an old romantic.” Angela states with a pointed finger, “Your anniversary is coming up and he’s the wine and dine type of guy.” 

“So I should beat him at his own game?” Gabriel frowns, “That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Jack also likes to be  _ surprised _ .” Lena insists.

“Oh.” Gabriel grins wickedly, “I know.”

Fareeha throws her spoon at him, “Gross, Gabi.”

Gabriel decides to bite, “Okay. So what’s Jack’s favorite flower?”

All three women turn their heads to him so fast he gets whiplash for them. 

“How do you not know this?” Lena hisses.

Gabriel shrugs, “He works with a million of the damn things a day, he’s never  _ said _ anything!”

“Useless.” Angela digs her phone out of her pocket, pressing hurriedly at the screen and hands it to Gabriel, “That is the Amaryllis.” The flowers are breathtaking, he can admit that. 

They’re huge though, six petals, three big, three small. Some are a soft, dreamy pink, and others are white and blinding. 

“What do they mean?” Gabriel asks softly, rubbing his thumb over the picture.

“Mean?” Fareeha tips her head.

Lena’s smile turns mischievous, “Oh? Did Gabe never tell you how they got together?”

Fareeha looks mildly hurt, “No!”

Angela laughs softly, “Jack sent him flowers with specific  _ meanings _ .”

“No way.” Fareeha smiles excitedly, “Farm boy  _ is _ a romantic!”

“It was beautiful.” Lena sighs taking a sip from her wine glass, “Jack would get up early and arrange them in his shop. Sometimes he’d just stare at them and wonder if it was too soon to bring you another set.”

Gabe didn’t know that. Fucking hell, he doesn’t deserve Jack. 

The dark thought curls unbidden at the back of his mind and he squashes it down like bile. No. Not here. Not when he’s about to ask the man of his fucking dreams to share a home. 

He hands Angela her phone back, “Where can I get them?”

__  
  
  
  


\--

__  
  
  
  


Jack goes to bed earlier than he wants too. He gets tired of staring at the clock, hour after hour passing until ten hits and he accepts the inevitable. Gabriel probably isn’t returning tonight. He pulls the blankets over his head and peers down at his phone under the blanket. 

No texts. No calls. He sighs and sets it on the table by his bed. 

Twenty minutes later, he hears the door open and shut. He doesn’t get up, doesn’t move, just frowns at the wall across from him. 

The door to his room creaks open and closes just as softly. He feels the bed dip as Gabriel climbs in and a strong, warm arm falls over his waist. 

Jack remains quiet, feeling a little burned and bummed. He doesn’t lean in or attempt to wiggle back like he normally does. 

Gabriel does it himself, pressing a kiss to Jack’s bare shoulder. 

The strong scent of perfume hits Jack like a punch to the diaphragm. He swallows thick around the anger and the jealousy that claws its way up into his throat. 

“Sorry it took so long.” Gabriel mumbles, “Fareeha had some shit to take care of.”

The feeling melts so fast Jack almost lets out a sob in relief. 

He closes his eyes against the wave and pulls Gabriel’s hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to the knuckles. A silent apology for something he never said.

“You okay, Jack _? _ ” Gabriel’s voice is low and worried in his ear.

“You’re late.” Jack mutters. 

Gabriel chuckles softly and nips his ear, “Are you pouting?”

Jack elbows him, “ _ No _ .”

“Jealous of Fareeha, Jack?” 

“I’m going to sleep.” Jack huffs. 

Gabriel tightens his arm and buries his face in Jack’s neck, “You’re so cute, Jackie.”

“ _ Shut up _ .” Jack laughs. 

__  
  
  


\--

__  
  
  
  


It takes Gabriel the entirety of Sunday to get his apartment set up. 

He sneaks out of Jack’s apartment with a mumbled protest from Jack at seven in the morning and proceeds to re-clean his apartment. 

He meets Angela at the flower market to pick up the Amaryllis. She takes him to a wine shop to grab a decent bottle of wine and even accompanies him to the grocery store. He decides on a simple pasta dish, because that’s all he really knows how to cook, and heads back to the apartment. 

He’s surprised Jack hasn’t texted him yet and he frowns at his phone where it sits on the counter near his cutting board. 

After Jack’s little jealous huff the night before, Gabriel thought he’d be a little more curious at to what Gabe was doing up so early. 

He cooks the pasta and squints at a recipe book on how to make the sauce. Cooking is not his strong point, never has been. His  _ abuela _ tried many, many times to teach him her ways and he just never picked it up. 

Now Jack was another story. 

Jack made dishes so good and filling you’d end the meal convinced you wouldn’t need to eat for another week. Comes from being a country boy, Jack had laughed, his parents were racist asses, but they didn’t skimp on the food. 

Gabriel wonders if  _ Abuela _ would hand down some of her recipes to Jack. 

He flushes at the thought of bringing Jack home to ‘meet the parents’. 

Abuela would love him, he’s sure, but she’s a shrewd woman and she guarded those recipes like a dragon guards treasure. 

The chicken parts smoothly under his knife as he thinks of bring Jack to his childhood home.

_ Abeula _ was escatic when he told her he was seeing someone. She had gushed in rushed spanish over the phone while he rolled his eyes and told her it wasn’t that big of a deal. 

At that time, Jack wasn’t a sure thing. Gabe had spent the first rocky months of their time together waiting for Jack to wake up and realize what he’d gotten himself into. That he had better options to choose from than waking up to a screaming veteran who couldn’t control his depression or his PTSD. 

Jack never changed his mind. Jack never faltered. 

He was patient when Gabe wasn’t and he stood like a rock when Gabe lost his mind. Lost his grip on reality. Lost to panic attacks and memories he couldn’t control. 

Jack didn’t mind the snakes or the oil. Jack waded through them just as fearless as he was in everything else. Bold, brilliant, and beautiful as he continuously jerked Gabriel back from the brink. 

He glances at his phone again. It’s well past four and Jack  _ still _ hasn’t gotten ahold of him. He sets the knife down with a clatter and washes his hands before picking up the phone. 

He’s fixing to dial Jack’s number when a knock on his door interrupts him. 

A frown distorts his features as he walks through the foyer and yanks the door open. Jack is standing there, dressed in jeans and a peach-colored t-shirt. He’s wearing a grin a mile wide and Gabriel’s heart does that thing where it  _ yearns _ for Jack. The man’s standing right fucking there and his heart just begs for him.

“Got a moment?” Jack asks.

“How much of a moment?” Gabriel thinks about the cooling pasta and uncooked chicken he still needs to prepare. 

“I have something to show you.” Jack smiles, “Think I can pull you away for a little while?”

_No_. He thinks irritably, _I’m trying to do shit_ _for you and you’re distracting me._

“How long is a while?”

Jack’s face falls slowly into a frown, “Oh. Are you busy?” Kicked puppy. God fucking damn Jack Morrison and his kicked puppy face. 

Gabe reaches back into the apartment to snatch his keys from the table and joins Jack in the hall. “Nope. Lead the way, Jack.”

A hesitant smile tugs at Jack’s mouth and he leads Gabriel out of the complex. 

Gabriel recognizes Ana’s white sedan on the curb. He sends an incredulous look in Jack’s direction, “How the fuck did you convince her to borrow it?”

Jack unlocks it with the clicker, “I just asked.”

“You. Just. Asked.” Gabriel throws his hands up, “She won’t even let me look at the damn thing.”

“I asked  _ nicely. _ ” Jack snorts as they both climb into the car. 

They drive for about fifteen minutes before Jack pulls into an empty parking lot. 

Gabe has no idea where they are and he knows LA like the back of his hand. The building is pretty barren, one lone car is sitting at the far end. 

A sign reads ‘Lucio’s Sanctuary’ in spray paint on the front door. Gabe shoots Jack a confused look and Jack just gets out of the car and waves him over to the front porch. 

Gabe gets out cautiously, “Where are we?”

“It’s your anniversary present.” Jack states matter of factly, walking up to the door and knocking three times. A kid answers the door, headphones around his neck and dreads past his shoulders.  

“Yo! Mr. Morrison!” 

Jack smiles, “Is everything ready, Lucio?” 

Lucio winks and finger guns at them, “You bet. You know where to go. I’m wrapping up with the amphibians.”

Jack pulls Gabriel inside by his wrist and Gabe follows.

They walk through the halls of what looks to be an animal sanctuary. There’s a cat room on his left and a snake room on his right. 

Jack keeps pulling him down the hall where a door is nestled at the end, the last remaining rays of sun leaking through the stained glass. 

Jack hesitates at the door, casting a quick look at Gabriel, “I’ve been planning this for months.”

Of course. Gabriel stares at Jack for a long moment, “Show me.”

Jack smiles slowly and twists the knob, pulling the door open. 

The first sound that greets him is a loud screech. 

His chest hitches in wonder as Jack pushes him through the door and into a large caged room. 

In each large cage was an owl. Ranging from standard barn to a gorgeous snowy white one cleaning under its wing. 

His feet stop moving as he reaches the center of the room. He can feel Jack behind him, watching and waiting as he takes in all in its entirety. 

“Your favorite animal is the owl right?” Jack asks softly, “I wasn’t one hundred percent and Ana wasn’t much help-.”

“Marry me.” Gabriel breathes out.

“What?” Jack sounds startled. 

Gabriel blinks and turns to him, “I mean-fuck-.” He groans, “ _ Move _ in with me.”

Jack looks a cross between amused and confused, “Which one is it?”

“I was going to make you dinner.” Gabriel rushes, “I have a table with candles and flowers and  _ pasta _ and  _ wine. _ ” he shoves a hand through his curls, “I was going to do this right and ask you to move in with me.” He waves a hand at the owls, the amazing, beautiful creatures hooting and cooing at them from their perches, “And then you do this. How do I even compete?”

Jack’s watching him with those intense fucking eyes and it makes Gabriel nervous, “I want to see it.” Jack whispers in wonder.

Gabriel frowns, “See what?”

Jack takes one of his hands, “I want to see it. The table and the flowers and the food.” He smiles, “I can bring you here next weekend. We can feed them. Lucio always needs help.”

Gabriel gaps at him, “You mean - this is a  _ gift _ ?”

Jack laughs, “Of course. They’re all injured. They need care and I asked Lucio if you could come in and help.”

“You’re serious.” Gabriel doesn’t know what to do. What to say. His chest is aching in the best something fierce and he reaches forward and pulls Jack’s mouth to his. 

Jack sighs happily against his lips, “Take me home, Gabriel. Ask me properly, so I can say yes.”

Gabe has never felt so amazing in his life.

__  
  
  


\--

__  
  
  


He fucks Jack like a man possessed. 

After Jack damn near cries at the sight of the flowers and they both cook the shitty ass cold, soggy pasta. They drag the wine to Gabe’s bedroom and both drink from the bottle as they trade sloppy, slow kisses that burn his heart. 

Jack is howling under him, back arched and one hand wrapped tight around Gabe’s bicep and the other white knuckled around the metal bar of his headboard. 

Gabe’s thrusts are sharp and tight, Jack squeezing him in the best way. His chest is heaving and his hands are holding Jack’s thighs, leaving red fingerprints in their wake. 

Jack cries out his name on repeat, a record Gabriel never wants to stop. He’s babbling, baby blues watching Gabriel with something so sharp and reverent Gabriel wants to cry.

He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. 

“Gabriel.” Jack’s voice is wrecked, his chest is flushed red and his nipples are hard, he looks stunning, “ _ Gabriel _ .”

He increases his pace, slamming firm into Jack’s hole and enjoying the sharp keen in response, “What, Jack? What do you need?”

Jack tosses his head to the side in pleasure, mouth moving but no words escaping, “I-.” He chokes on a sob, cock straining and bouncing against his abdomen. “I love you.”

Gabriel’s stomach flares in lust, eyes widening as Jack cries out again in pleasure. “Fucking hell.” He hisses, letting Jack’s legs fall to the side as he curls possessively over Jack’s form to steal a wet, messy kiss, “I love you too. God  _ damn _ , Jack, how could I not?”

Jack whines up into the kiss and Gabriel can tell he's close, the way his body is straining, the tense line of his shoulders. 

He wraps his fist around Jack’s cock and starts jerking him in time with his thrusts, “Come on. That’s it, baby _. _ ” He nips at Jack’s lips, “Come for me, Jack.”

Jack does so with a howl and drags Gabriel along with him. 

The pleasure is sharp and so  _ emotional _ it burns Gabe’s eyes. He milks Jack’s cock for a moment longer before letting go and pressing a kiss to the side of Jack’s neck. His legs are shaking from the thrusting and the exertion of holding his body up. 

Jack’s chest is rising rapidly under his own, puffs of breath ruffling Gabe’s curls. Gabe pulls back a bit to stare down at him. Jack is watching him, hand falling away from the headboard to tug at the strand of hair falling into Gabe’s face. 

“We should put that in our top five best fucks.” Jack laughs softly.

“You bet.” Gabe grins, “Anniversary sex is amazing.”

Jack’s eyes are so fucking blue it hurts, “We should make it a habit then.”

That does it. 

Gabriel drops his forehead to Jack’s, eyes clenched shut and fighting the onslaught of tears. “You really want to be with me for another year?”

Jack’s hand starts carding through his hair, down the back of his neck and back up, “And the year after that, and the year after that-.” He pauses, “Until you tell me to leave - I’m yours.”

“ _ Yea. _ Yea. Okay.” Gabriel rolls over onto his back and grabs the cloth from his side of the bed. He cleans them both up before pulling Jack into the cage of his arms. 

Jack falls asleep fast, after a mumbled  _ I love you _ is pressed to the base of Gabe’s throat. His chest is clogged with emotion, his throat too, and he presses his face into Jack’s hair. 

He  _ deserves _ this _. _

__  
  
  
  
  


 

 

**End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed all the porn. It was fun to write and also very intense, emotional sex is just so amazing to put into words.
> 
> Thank all of you for your feedback, support, and comments! You guys made this story an amazing ride. 
> 
> Amaryllis - Pride/Pastoral Poetry
> 
> Update:  
> The mchanzo companion fic 'Fool's Gold' is up [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10128512/chapters/22523351)


	7. Bonus: Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Gabe take a vacation to visit one anothers families.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone. I promised a bonus chapter and here it is. 
> 
> I've been planning this for _months_ but with school and all my other open projects clogging up my time, I had to put it on the back burner for a bit. 
> 
> But we're at almost 2000 kudos and words can not describe how amazed I am at the reception of this fic. 
> 
> So to the old and the new:
> 
>  
> 
> _Enjoy_

 

 

 

**Bonus chapter: Vacation**

 

 

 

  
  


The subconscious is a tricky thing. 

Winston tells him on a weekly basis that no matter how hard he tries, there’s no changing your dream state. How you handle life and conflict in the real world dictates how your brain stores information and replays it during the night. 

He still dreams in blood and smoke and fire.

Not near as often, but it still happens.

Like now, when he’s drifting in and out of early morning sleep. 

Jack had long since left the bed, a warm hand down Gabe’s spine before the shower turns on. He vaguely remembers it, the light from the window filters in, leaving perfect lines across the wall. 

It’s the crash that turns his soft dream about breakfast into a bloodstained warzone. No glass or ceramic or phone hitting the ground, it’s too loud, too sudden. 

Fear curls up sharp through his chest and nestles in his throat, the vision of their kitchen bleeding into hot sand and gunfire. 

A bomb to his left sends him flying into another member of his team. A child screams, someone is yanking as his arm. 

Nausea curls in his gut and Gabe snaps awake just quick enough to be sick in the laundry basket on the side of his bed.

His fingers weave through the small holes and his eyes barely focus on the fact that those are  _ his _ clothes he just vomited into. 

He groans and drops his head.

A warm hand presses against the back of his neck and awareness trickles down his spine. 

“I’m good.” Gabe croaks. 

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he does walk to the adjoining bathroom. The sink turns on and a few minutes later, a cool, wet cloth is against his neck.

“Reaper knocked the stress balls onto the tile in the kitchen.” Jack explains softly, his thumb rubbing the sensitive spot beneath Gabe’s right ear. 

Gabe grunts, “Fucking bird.”

“Hey.” Jack admonishes, “You love that fucking bird.” 

He does. It’s true. 

Gabe sighs and stands, can feel Jack’s hand gliding down to rest at the base of his spine. He bends over to pick up the basket and winces at the smell. 

“I’m gonna go toss these in the wash.” He mumbles.

Gabe turns around to walk out the door, pauses when he gets a good look at Jack. 

Jack, who’s standing there in his shop’s pink shirt, shoes on and everything. Gabriel’s features drop into a scowl, “Jack.”

Jack tenses and gives a sheepish smile, “Now-.”

“We are on vacation.” Gabriel growls, “Why are you going into work?”

Jack’s blue eyes glance over at the bedroom door, “I just want to check everything before I go-.”

“Lena and Angela are perfectly capable of running your shop while you’re gone.” Gabriel doesn’t care that he’s holding a laundry basket full of dirty clothes and vomit, he continues to scowl at Jack, “We talked about this.” 

“But Gabe.” Jack groans, turning his eyes back on Gabriel, “Just one more walk through.”

“No.” Gabriel snaps, “You are going to make sure everything is packed. We are going to get on that plane and we are going to visit you parents.” 

Jack’s face scrunches up at that, “That isn’t a vacation.”

Gabriel shrugs one shoulder and starts his walk out of the bedroom and into the hallway. He can hear Jack following closely, gives Reaper, their big angry black owl, a narrowed stare as he walks past the living room and into the foyer. 

“That’s why we’re going to your parents first. So when we get to my abuela’s house, the real vacation can start.” Gabriel grins, propping the basket on his hip to open the front door. 

“Fine.” Jack mumbles, “You get all of your stuff out of the bathroom?” 

Gabriel hums thoughtfully, “I think so, but better check.” 

“Yea yea.” Jack waves a hand at him and disappears back in the direction of their bedroom. 

Gabe continues on his way, down the stairs, and around the corner where the apartment buildings small laundromat was nestled. The washers were surprisingly empty, all four of them. He uses the sink by the door to rinse the worst of it off and dumps the wet clothing into one of the washers. He starts the cycle and heads for the stairs. 

By the time he gets back into the apartment, Jack has both of their suitcases propped up in the foyer, carry on backpack and Gabe’s sea bag beside them. His hoodie is tossed over his black suitcase and his shoes are seated beside it. He grins at Jack’s anal organizational skills.

“You’d fit right in in the military, Jack.” Gabriel muses, detouring to their bedroom. 

“Duly noted.” Jack snorts from within the kitchen.

He’s not surprised to see an outfit already waiting for him on the bed and a towel beside it. The subtle suggestion of a shower is enough to make Gabriel roll his eyes. However, he does it anyway and without complaint. 

The water relaxes his muscles and gives him a quiet moment to shake off the dream. 

Most of it is fuzzy now, thank god. He’s spent the last year and a half in therapy and while it’s paying off in the long run, it’s frustrating that it still lingers. It lingers in the dreams he still has, the shadow still floating around in the corner of his vision. 

Jack helps.

Jack’s patient. 

Winston is still giving him new ways to manage the PTSD. That doesn’t seem to be getting any better. The dreams, the sudden sounds? Sure that’s improved, but the reactions? The panic attacks? Those still come full force and hover like a black cloud. His moods are dark and he can retreat into himself for days at a time.

And Jack still waits patiently on the other side. 

“Need a hand?” Jack’s voice startles him, but the grin in the tone makes Gabriel laugh softly. 

He scrubs a hand through his hair, makes sure there’s no soap lingering in the long locks. When he deems his body soap-free, he twists the knobs off and pushes the shower curtain open with an overly dramatic flourish. 

“You could dry me off.” Gabriel grins.

Jack lifts an eyebrow, eyes raking down Gabriel’s wet form. Lust stirs in his belly, despite it being emptied earlier. Jack licks his lips and those eyes lock back with Gabriel’s and welp, how can a man say no to that look? 

Gabriel steps out of the shower and Jack sinks onto the lid of the toilet. One large arm wraps around Gabe’s waist and reels him in. 

Jack nuzzles the skin between his hip and his dick, which wakes up rather quickly, all things considered.

He pokes Jack in the cheek, but Jack doesn’t seem to mind, lips trailing from his hip to the base of his cock 

Those blue eyes flick up and Gabriel moans, soft and low, hands curling into Jack’s hair.

“I thought you said ‘a hand’.” Gabriel murmurs.

Jack’s chuckle vibrates against his dick. 

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


“ _ Yes _ .” Fareeha hisses, “I will take care of your bird from hell, Gabriel.” 

Jack snickers from where he’s standing at the top of the stairs, his carry on tossed over a shoulder and suitcase handle in hand. 

He watches Gabriel’s mouth drop open in disbelief as Fareeha waves at him with one hand and dangles their apartment keys with the other. 

“She is not from hell!” Gabriel hisses.

“Yea. Say that to Jack’s pinky finger.” Fareeha snorts, then shoves at Gabriel’s shoulder, “Get lost, Reyes or you’ll miss your flight.” 

Jack glances down at his left pinky, where a large, beak-shaped scar wrapped around the knuckle. It wasn’t that bad, but Reaper didn’t take to Jack as quickly as she took to Gabriel. It took two months and a lot of rats for Reaper to even give Jack the time of day. Now, she waddles after him and hoots softly when he’s stressing over an overdue bouquet of flowers. The scar on his finger doesn’t even cross his mind until someone mentions it. 

Fareeha is the only one who likes to remind Gabriel that their relationship almost ended over a bird. 

“She’s right.” Jack reminds him, “We have two hours to get to the airport and through security.” And as much as he’d rather miss this flight and stay in bed with Gabriel for the first half of their vacation time, he knows Gabriel is looking forward to seeing Jack’s hometown. 

He's been crowing about it for over a month, ever since Jack’s mom called and quietly asked him to visit. Just for a few days. So they could formally meet the man Jack’s been with for almost two years and moved in with six months ago. 

Jack didn’t want to go.

Gabriel insisted they go and soothed Jack’s anxiety by promising a visit to Santa Ana, where his grandmother lives. Which meant a pool, a zoo, and Gabriel’s abuela’s homemade carne asada. Jack is unable to say no to Gabriel’s pleads for anything, so of course he called his mother back and agreed to go for a few days. 

“Gabe.” Jack insists, “It’s a Friday at an airport, the traffic is going to be horrible, let’s  _ go _ .” 

Gabriel points two fingers at Fareeha, “If anything happens to her, I know eight different ways to dispose of a body.” 

Fareeha snorts, “Mama knows  _ ten _ .” She backs into her apartment, “Step up your game, Gabbi.” And slams the door in his face.

Gabriel sputters for a minute before twisting around furiously to face Jack. Jack watches as he snatches his suitcase and seabag up, tossing one over his shoulder and dragging the other behind. 

“Reaper is going to die.” Gabriel whispers sadly.

“No she’s not.” Jack shoulders him as they descend the stairs. 

They take the bus to the airport and it ends up taking as long as Jack expects to get through the crowd. 

Gabe’s sea bag goes under scrutiny at the security checkpoint and Jack has to put a firm hand against his chest to keep him from growling at the TSA agent.

“He’s just doing his job, Gabe.” Jack mutters.

“Which is insulting.” Gabriel hisses back at him, “It’s obviously a military bag, why doesn’t your prissy blue backpack get picked?” 

The guard hands the bag back over with a frown and they continue on their way, Jack giving the agent a forced smile. 

Gabe mumbles all the way to their gate and immediately starts digging through the bag to make sure nothing was taken. Jack accepts the paranoia as another part of Gabriel’s personality. 

Before long, they’re boarding the plane and Jack’s stomach is beginning the knotting process. He’s not ready to face his parents again, not after the last time they invaded his life. 

Gabe nestles into his seat, tugging the window down to the halfway point to block out the bright morning sun. He looks at peace as he takes out his phone and types frantically away, most likely to Ana about their departure. 

Jack swallows the nerves, tries to settle his stomach. 

“Stop fidgeting.” A warm hand settles atop the one he has on the center armrest. Jack glances down at it, dark and scarred atop his pale one. Gabriel’s thumb brushes along his skin and Jack lifts his eyes to meet Gabriel’s.

“I don’t want to do this.” Jack whispers.

“You need to.” Gabriel replies, lifting his other hand to cradle Jack’s jaw. 

Jack leans into it, closing his eyes when Gabe presses their lips together. 

He savors the kiss, melts into it as both of Gabriel’s hands caress his skin. 

The announcement system startles them apart and they both laugh, cheeks bumping together before parting. Gabe shoves his phone into the pocket of Jack’s backpack, as his bag was up in the compartment. 

The flight lasts a little over five hours.

With every passing moment, Jack’s stomach ties into knots. 

He’s not ready.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


Jack’s anxiety is palpable. 

They retrieve their baggage from the claim area and Jack is staring down at his phone with a scrunched up frown. It ruins his pretty face, makes him look older and for a second, Gabe wonders if this was the right thing to do. 

Jack can’t hide from his parents forever. And while Gabriel is totally on board with hiding Jack away in his apartment for the remainder of their lives, it doesn’t fix his relationship with his parents. Something Gabriel would like to see change before he decides to pop the question in the next year or so. 

“Jack!” 

Gabriel recognizes Sarah Morrison from her last visit and the picture Jack has of her in his wallet. She’s still small and this time she’s in a bright yellow sundress, hair tied back in a bun and smiling from ear to ear. 

Well. There’s Jack’s smile. 

Jack’s face melts into an exact mirror of his mother's and pulls her into a hug that lifts her straight off the ground. 

“Hi, ma.” Jack laughs, setting her back down. 

Her face is flush with delight and when she spots Gabriel, the smile doesn’t diminish. A good sign, he hopes. 

“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Morrison.” Gabriel grins, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. 

She nods, “You as well, I’m glad you could make the trip with him.” Her fingers pull a set of keys out of her purse, “Let’s get you two in the car. I have it pulled up with the valet.” 

They follow her out into the Bloomington sunlight, where a pristine red SUV sits waiting for them near the curb. Sarah pops the tailgate and it opens slowly, a steady beeping accompanies the lift and she motions inside, “Drop it all in here, boys.” 

Gabriel takes Jack’s back pack from him and tosses it into the back, before lifting both of the suitcases next. Jack waits until his mother is climbing into the front seat to steal a kiss from Gabe, leaving him with a dopey grin as he shuts the door and climbs into one of the back seats. Jack takes shotgun with a nervous glance back at Gabe, who just gives him a thumbs up.

He’s here to be supportive. 

He’s going to do this for Jack.

He isn’t going to let any of his own shit get in the way of Jack fixing things with his parents. 

Nope. 

Sarah talks enough for the three of them as they make the drive to Jack’s family farm. She explains the local weddings, how the farms been doing, who they hired to help Jack’s dad since Jack moved away. He can see Jack shift uncomfortably at that, but gives a gentle nudge to the back of the seat with his knee and the shifting stops. 

The farm is  _ massive _ . 

Sarah turns onto a dirt driveway, where a large metal arch spelt ‘Morrison Farms’ in big, bold letters. He watches them pass up horses, cows, a few scattered chickens here and there. There’s grass and field as far as the eye can see, three barns on the north, east, and west sides. Then nestled in the center is a brick home, small, modest. The porch wraps around the west side, enough to hold a BBQ pit and a set of chairs. The east side holds two trucks and a small pull-behind camper under a bright white carport.

“You got your camper.” Jack laughs from the front seat.

Sarah shares the laugh, “Took me a month to convince your father to buy it. We’ve yet to go on a trip.” 

She pulls up behind the blue truck and parks, “I’m going to fetch your father from the cattle barn. Same room, dear.” She reaches across the seat and pats his cheek before crawling out of the front seat and skirting the edge of the carport. 

Jack lets out a wheeze of a sigh, pops his door open. Gabe follows him and snatches his hand before Jack can go pop the tailgate.

“Hold on.” Gabriel mutters. 

Jack looks nervous as hell and it shows in the shaky smile he gives Gabriel. 

“It’s just a few days, Jack.” Gabe says, pulling Jack up against his chest, “You want to marry me, right?” 

Jack squints at him, “Are you proposing?”

“Not yet.” Gabriel grins, presses both of Jack’s hands to his mouth, “But soon, Jackie _._ Soon.” 

He pulls away and heads to the back of the car to pull out their stuff. 

“That’s cheating you know. Now I know it’s coming.” Jack whines, “What’s the point of a surprise if you  _ ruin _ the surprise?” 

Gabriel shoves Jack’s backpack into his chest, “Make peace with your parents so I can ask your dad if I can marry you.”

“I’m not from the  _ south _ , Gabe.” Jack laughs, slamming the gate shut and leading Gabriel into the house, “I don’t have a dowry and you don’t need my dad's permission to take my last name.” 

Gabe snorts, watches Jack’s ass climb the steps into his childhood home, “What if I want you to take  _ my _ name?” 

Jack shrugs, “We can argue that later.” 

Gabe watches him twist the knob and opens the front door into the house. It leads into a living area full of well-used sofas of different colors. The carpet is beige and worn well, a path leading to different parts of the home. The back area holds a small dining set that seats five. A computer on the right. A hallway on the left. 

Jack points down the hall, “Kitchen’s down there, first bathroom is on the right. Past the kitchen is the spare bedroom and mom and dad's room.” His finger wiggles, “The spare bedroom leads to the west porch.” 

Gabe follows Jack past the dining area, “Is that the party room?”

Jack snorts, “No. It’s where the family eats during holidays.” 

Makes sense. 

Jack leads him to a small door left of the dining area, “Well.” He mumbles, “Home sweet home.” 

The door opens into a bedroom and Jack flips the light switch. There are no windows. Just a million posters of  _ flowers _ . They cover the entirety of the walls, blocking a light pink colored paint underneath. The bed's full-sized and Gabe winces at how tight a fit that will still be with two grown ass men. It’s covered in a grey comforter with gold embroidery. There’s a red rug on the right side of the bed. 

“Well.” Gabriel tries to hold back the chuckles, but he’s failing, “At least you knew what you wanted to be when you grew up.” 

Jack elbows him in the stomach and drops his bags next to an empty desk on the left. “Ha ha.” 

Gabe does the same, then face plants the bed with a loud groan, “I hate flying.” His back hurts and his ears are still stopped up. He’s kinda hungry. 

Jack sits next to him, quiet, “Gabe?” 

Gabe turns his head to look up at him, “Yea?”

Jack’s eyes are so goddamn blue, “Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Anything for you.” 

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


The first thing Jack does in officially introduce Gabriel to his dad. 

Their last encounter was far from civil and Jack kept his fingers crossed behind his back the entire way to the kitchen. 

His mother is stirring a pot of something over the stove, smells like chicken and dumplings. His father is chugging tea straight from the plastic container in front of the fridge. 

John sets the jug back into the refrigerator once the two of them have fully stepped into the kitchen. 

Jack’s stomach tangles for a moment before Gabriel steps forward, hand outstretched.

“Mr. Morrison.” 

John shakes the hand firmly, nods, “Reyes, was it?” 

“You can call me Gabriel, sir.” Gabe’s voice is steady, with just enough of an edge to it that Jack knows it for what it is. A warning. You can call me by my name until you disrespect me and then it’s off.

Jack swallows, “Hey dad.” 

John pulls him into a one-armed hug, which is super awkward since their last meeting was stiff shoulders and a crisp goodbye. However, Jack takes it in stride and welcomes the warmth of his dad's weird hug. 

“Dinner’s almost ready.” Sarah chirps from the stove, “Bowls are in the same place, Jack.” 

He nods and walks over to the right cabinet, ears straining as Gabriel and his father launch into a stiff conversation. They talk about Gabe’s military service as Jack and his mother gather utensils and potholders for the table. Gabe’s voice carries even as he leaves down the hall to set the table. 

“Discharged?” John asks.

“Honorably.” Gabe replies, “Medical discharge after my last tour.” 

“Lotta bad things happening over there.” 

“More than you know, sir.” Gabriel sighs out as Jack reenters the kitchen to take the pot of dumplings from his mother's hands. 

She gives him a soft smile as he does so, pecking his cheek and turning to the other two men in the room.

“John. Go wash up before you eat. Gabriel, anything particular you’d like to drink?” 

“Whatcha got?” Gabriel grins.

“Got a whole fridge of drinks.” She waves at said fridge, then to the cabinet, “Cups are up there, ice is in the freezer.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Gabriel nods, sends a glance over at Jack, “I’ll fix yours too.”

“Tea.” Jack grins, “Mom makes the best.”

She slaps his arm playfully, “It comes out of a box and you know it, march.” He grins as she shoves him down the hall, pot full of decadent chicken and dumplings in hand. The fragrance brings back memories of his childhood here, the happier ones, before he had to start hiding who he was and sneaking out of his dad’s radar. 

Once everyone is seated at the table and his father’s said the prayer, they dig in. Gabe sits to his right and lets out a soft whimper that only Jack could hear after his first bite. Jack grins over at him, nudges with his elbow.

“Good, huh?”

“Really good.” Gabe replies happily and goes silent as they eat. 

“I haven’t watered you garden yet today.” Sarah smiles, helping herself to another scoop of the dumplings, “I figured you’d want the honor and there’s another hour of daylight left.” 

Jack chest tightens, “You - uh - you kept it?” 

His dad shifts uncomfortably, eyes dropping down to his bowl, but his mother just reaches across the table and pats his hand, “It’s where you started, honey. I couldn’t bear to see it wither away.”

Jack’s not going to cry at the dinner table. 

He bites his lip and his stomach twists. Gabe’s knee presses against his thigh under the table and it steadies him, if only for a moment. 

“I’d like to see it.” Gabe mutters softly. 

Jack nods once, finishes up his bowl and helps himself to another. 

Ten minutes later Sarah is shooing them out the back door, despite Gabriel and Jack protesting to help her do the dishes.

“You’ve had a long day.” She swats at Jack’s bicep, “Water the garden, show him the grounds and relax. You can help me another night.” 

Jack sighs as she shuts the door with a soft click. Gabriel is grinning at him like a madman.

“Your mom is pretty nice.” 

Jack winces, “You say that until you’re in trouble.”

Gabe elbows him, “My abuela is the same way, Jackie. All moms are.” 

Jack chuckles and leads him around the west side of the house. The air smells like mown grass and cow, probably horse too. It’s a scent Jack is all too familiar with. 

Gabe’s nose is wrinkled when he glances over at him. 

“You’ve lived in foxholes with sweaty men and a little cow makes you cringe?” Jack sneers. 

“It’s different.” Gabe shudders, “Just show me the garden.” 

Jack shrugs and snatches the water hose from the back of the house. He drags it around the west porch as his garden comes into view. 

It’s the same as he left it all those years ago, fenced in by broken brick pieces he’d scavenged from the lumber yard. His petunias, roses, and all the cheap ass flowers he bought with his allowance, were still there. Still thriving even after all this time. 

His throat hurts all of a sudden and he stands there, staring down at his little slice of heaven. The only escape he’d ever had from his father. From the farm.

Gabe’s hand is warm at the base of his spine, “You okay?” 

Jack shakes his head, “I thought they’d-.” He swallows, “We were all so angry at each other when I left. Figured they would mow over it with a tractor.” 

“You know.” Gabe muses, “Your dad was a real grade A jackass when they first came out to visit, but Jack. It’s been almost two years.” His hand slides to cup his waist, twists Jack until he’s staring down into Gabe’s dark eyes, “They just miss you now. They don’t care about what’s between my legs or the color of my skin anymore. They just miss  _ you _ .” 

Anger rises like bile, “That doesn’t change or excuse what they said about you.”

“No. It doesn’t.” Gabe nods, lifts a hand to cup Jack’s jaw, “But people  _ can _ change, Jack.” 

Jack sighs, drops his forehead to Gabe’s. They stand like that for a while, until the sky turns orange and he forgets to water his plants. 

Gabe’s solid against him, a steady rock in the sea of Jack’s tattered emotions. Thumbs caress his cheek bones and if he listens very carefully, he can hear the soft thud of Gabriel’s heart. 

Jack kisses him there, in front of his mediocre flower garden, on his family’s farm. 

Gabe opens for him, so willing, both hands holding Jack’s neck. The kiss is so tender it makes Jack’s heart ache just a bit, just enough for his eyes to water. 

He isn’t sure if words will ever convey how much Gabriel’s changed his life.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


Gabe wakes slow, languid. 

His dreams were murky, thank god, nothing too serious and memories just skirting the edge of horror. He pats out to his left and the sheets are empty and cold. It makes him blink rapidly, shoving up to one elbow and glancing around the room. 

The door is open just a crack and the light in the living area is dim, but on. He looks over at the alarm clock, wondering where the hell Jack is when he spots a tiny white vase next to the digital alarm clock. 

Inside the vase is a handful of tiny white flowers. Multiple petals drooping down into a perfect circle. The center is a vibrant yellow and the stems are fresh. He can smell them from the bed and with a silly grin, he flops back down and stares at them. 

He allows himself time to wake up fully, he’s not like Jack, who can wake up on a dime and be ready in five minutes. His fingers brush the edges of the petals as he gathers the day's clothes and pulls up his jeans. 

He wanders out of the room, peering into the living area and noting that it’s empty. 

Empty except for a scent, a very familiar scent that has nothing to do with the beautiful flowers on the table and everything to do with how he and Jack first met.

Peanut butter cookies.

He hurries to the kitchen, nose in the air and stomach growling as the smell grows stronger. It’s been a hot minute since Jack’s had the time to make cookies. What with wedding season on the rise and his shop gaining popularity, Jack spends most of his free time at the shop or passed out in bed with Gabe. Which was another reason why they both needed this vacation. 

“Are those what I think they are?” Gabriel nearly whimpers as he steps inside.

Both Jack and his mother are in the kitchen. Sarah is pulling out a batch from the oven, bright green apron tied at her back. Jack’s rolling out balls and pressing them into the pan with a wet fork. 

Jack’s laughter is soft, “I was telling mom how we met.”

“Did you leave out the part where I was a total asshole?” Gabe grins, walking over to the stove and wiggling his fingers over a plate of what he hopes are cooled cookies. 

Sarah huffs out a laugh and waves him forward, “He did not. I got all the juicy details, Jack always was the better baker.” 

Gabe takes a bite out of his first cookie and nearly cries, “It’s even better when both of you make it.” 

“Oh those are moms.” Jack looks sheepish, “These are mine. We both have secret ingredients.” 

Gabe shuffles over and drops his chin over Jack’s shoulder, “Lena was right. Just open a bakery.” 

Jack swats at him, “Hey. I like my flower shop.” 

“Mmm.” Gabe nuzzles his neck, “But imagine if you came home smelling like cookies every day.” 

“You’d get tired of it. Trust me.” Sarah puts the next back into the oven, “My mother worked in cake shop her entire life and some days, that sugar smell was horrific.” 

“See?” Jack waves at his mother, “Flowers are better.”

Gabe reaches over to the plate, not leaving Jack’s back, to snatch another cookie and shove it into his mouth. He settles his arms loose at Jack’s hips while he watches the blonde work his cookie magic. Sarah hums to herself from the sink, rinsing out bowls and whisks. 

“Got your flowers.” Gabe mumbles happily, pressing at kiss below Jack’s ear. 

Jack’s chest rumbles in approval, “They’re chrysanthemum.” 

“Not your usual flourish.” Gabe grins, “They’re very small.” 

“Big expressions come in small packages sometimes.” Jack hedges, rolling another ball of dough and mushing it into a pan. 

He melts into Jack’s back, closes his eyes and listens to the sounds of a kitchen. The smell of peanut butter, “What do they mean?”

“Loyal love.” Jack replies. 

Gabe’s arms tighten around him and he wants to  _ kiss _ Jack all of a sudden. For all the trepidation for coming here, this was the most they’ve enjoyed of one another in weeks. With all the security details Gabe’s had to man and Jack’s weddings clogging up all his schedule, they hadn’t had much time to themselves beyond quick kisses and huffed grunts of tiredness in bed.  

“What’s on the agenda today?” Gabe asks.

“Figured I’d take you into town for lunch.” Jack replies, “Fred’s has the best milkshakes in town and mom needs milk.”

“And hamburger buns, dear.” Sarah reminds him, “Ya’ll leave tomorrow evening and your father wanted to invite the Campbells over for some burgers tonight.”

“Okay.” Jack nods and Gabe steps back to allow him room to move the pan of cookies. 

Gabriel follows Jack back to the bedroom, where the blonde starts pulling off his sleeping clothes and digging around for daytime clothing. He watches for a silent moment, Jack’s back flexing as he tosses the shirt into a laundry bin beside the desk. Gabe’s stomach rumbles in hunger and not for the cookies he can still smell between them. 

He waits until Jack yanks the sweats down and kicks them off with one foot before swooping in. His fingers curl into Jack’s hips as he twists the other man around.

“Hey-.” Jack mutters, eyebrows dropping into a scowl, “What was that for?” 

Gabe bites at Jack’s jaw line, inhaling the sweet,  _ sweet _ scent of cookie dough. Jack’s flesh is warm under his fingers, slightly damp from standing near a hot stove. Arousal flares low in his belly as he peppers kisses down Jack’s neck, bites into the muscle of his shoulder. 

Jack hisses, wiggles against him, “G-gabe, no we’re in my parent’s house.” 

“No sex.” Gabe promises, breath hot as he presses their hips together and moans into the dip of Jack’s collarbone, “But I gotta get my mouth on you Jack.” 

His hands scramble to pull Jack out of his boxers and that pretty dick sticks out through the slit, hard and already twitching for Gabe’s touch. Gabe sinks to his knees easy as anything, mouthing at Jack’s abdomen and holding Jack steady by his thighs.

A hand curls into his hair, tangling in the long locks,  “ _ Look _ at you.” A low groan follows as Gabe licks over the lip, tasting the precum leaking there. He mouths at the underside, grinning as it twitches away and bounces off his lips. Gabe doesn’t waste time after that. He swallows Jack down, hand holding the base and keeping his dick straight. Jack’s a heavy weight in his mouth, bitter and salty in the best of ways. His hips twitch with every swallow and soft moans pulse and twist with the fingers in his hair. 

Gabe’s own dick begs for attention, but he’s not worried about it. Jack  _ thanked him for coming.  _ For bringing him here and settling back with his parents, even if it was a quiet transition. Jack left him flowers that approved of his  _ loyalty _ and baked him cookies in the early morning hours with his mother. 

He sucks harder, fingers digging into the flesh of Jack’s thighs. Saliva is sticky down his chin, but it doesn’t matter, Jack’s getting close. He can hear it in the hitched breaths and the soft, glorious pleading of his name. The panting ‘ _ Gabe, Gabe, Gabe _ ’ the most beautiful mantra he’s ever heard. 

The hand in his hair twists, violently, twice and then Jack is coming with a muted shout. Gabe can hear him slap a hand over his mouth, hips jerking and come warm on his tongue. He rumbles happily, licking Jack’s softening dick clean and tucking him back into his boxers. 

Jack pulls him up by his shoulders, kisses the taste of himself out of Gabe’s mouth. 

“What was that for?” Jack pants, dropping his forehead onto Gabe’s shoulder.

“My thanks to you.” 

Jack laughs into his shirt, “They’re just flowers.” 

“And cookies and just-.” Gabe sighs, curls his arms around Jack’s waist and holds, “I knew this was going to be hard for you.”

“Which is why _ I _ should be thanking  _ you. _ ” Jack mutters. 

“You already have.” Gabe kisses Jack’s temple, takes in the scent of shampoo and flour, “You’ve done more for me than you will ever know.”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  
  


It’s harder to say goodbye to his parents than he originally thought. 

If Jack’s being perfectly honest, he expected to hate this entire trip and give his dad a firm handshake and his mom a stiff hug and fly away. Now, he’s watching his mother tear up, fingers curled into her t-shirt as Gabe prints out their plane tickets. 

His dad looks torn, but the hard features of his face are softer today. John actually gives Jack  _ and  _ Gabriel a hug. His mother babbles, pats his cheeks and makes him promise to call more often. There’s an apology in there somewhere as well. 

Gabe and his dad share one last handshake before their flight’s called. Jack waves goodbye to them, wishes, for the first time in  _ years _ that he’d taken more time to stay. 

They board the plane and settle into their seats, Jack sighs, drops his head onto Gabriel’s shoulder, “Did you get to ask for my hand?” 

“Yep.” Gabriel stretches his arms out in front of him, “Asked him while you were inside with your mom last night.”

Jack scrunches up his nose, tries to remember when he went in with his mother during burgers. Gabe had come out with two beers, one for himself and one for his dad. Jack remembers his mom asking him to help her cut the salad fixings up for her and-

“You sneaky shit.” Jack lifts his head, “Did my mom  _ tag team _ with you?” 

Gabe grins, “That she did, Morrison.” 

“Ugh.” Jack scoffs. 

“I thought she was going to burst into tears right there in front of me.” Gabe sighs dramatically, “Then your father made this sour milk face when I asked him if he’d come to the wedding.” 

No surprise, Jack thinks. His father will tolerate it, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be  _ happy _ .

“He said yes, by the way.” Gabe clears his throat, winds their fingers together over the armrest between them, “Said ‘If he’s happy, we’re happy’, sounded kinda like he was repeating someone else's words though.”

“Moms.” Jack whispers, “Mom.” 

“So it’s settled then. Double wedding with Hanzo and Jesse.” Gabe declares.

“What?” Jack whips his head around, “No. That’s a  _ month _ away and I’m the best man, I mean-maid of honor-I mean-.” 

Gabriel laughs, a loud, brilliant thing that makes Jack’s insides tingle. Gabe brings their clasped hands to his mouth and kisses the back of Jack’s, “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.” 

Jack eyes him suspiciously, “Uh-huh. Right.” Gabe’s chuckles taper off as the plane begins its takeoff, “You call Elena?” 

Gabe nods, yawning, “She’s gonna meet us at the airport. Got the guest room all ready for us.” He grins, “Pools ready for you.” 

Jack cheers internally and settles in for the longish flight. 

Sure enough, by the time they land at the Santa Ana airport, Gabriel’s short statured grandmother is waiting for them at baggage claim. She’s in jeans and a floral t-shirt, greying black hair braided over her shoulder and grin a mile wide across her face. 

“Jack!” She exclaims, tugging him down into a hug.

“Hey.” Gabriel protests from behind him, “I’m the favorite.” 

Jack shoots him a smug grin as Elena breaks the hug and starts in with Gabriel. Gabe sneers back at him over her tiny shoulder, flipping him the bird. Jack only shrugs and moves to the baggage belt when the alarm sounds. 

Ten minutes later they’re piling into her old camry. Jack relaxes into his spot in the back seat, Gabriel having called shotgun. The familiar trees and structure of California is a relief. Jack can honestly say that while he enjoyed being in his hometown, he missed the bright sunshine and the overall beachy feel of the west coast. 

Gabe and Elena are babbling back and forth in rushed spanish, hands gesturing wildly and laughing here and there. Jack doesn’t understand a damn thing they’re saying outside of a few choice words Gabriel taught him, but he doesn’t mind. 

He knows that in a few hours, he’ll be settled in a familiar house where a nice, chlorinated pool will be waiting for him. 

Elena doesn’t disappoint. There’s a plastic wrapped plate of tamales on the kitchen bar and a small bowl of sauce to the side. Gabe and Jack swivel into the chairs and chow down, not evening bothering with the plates. 

The small house smells of warmed salsa and clove. Everything is the same as it was when they visited last christmas, minus the tree of course. Her hand sewn afghans are tossed over the two couches, tile floor spotless as always. Jack can see the pool through the sliding glass door and a scattering of loungers and umbrellas. 

“How was the visit to your parents.” Elena asks, pulling three water bottles out of the fridge and dispersing them. 

Jack nods slowly, swallows around a mouthful of tamale, “Better than I expected. No arguing. No yelling. Dad handled it well.” 

“A relief, I’m sure.” She hums.

Gabe polishes off another tamale, licks his fingers, “He handled the news that I’m gonna marry Jack well enough.” 

Jack watches the expression on her face go from relaxed comfort to shock in seconds, “ _ Marry _ ?” He winces when she wacks Gabriel upside the head.

“Hey!” Gabriel complains.

“When did you propose?” She hisses.

“He hasn’t.” Jack uncaps his water bottle.

“Have you no finesse?” Elena throws her hands in the air, “No sense of surprise?” 

Gabriel scowls, rubbing at the right side of his head, “It will be a surprise, I just wanted to ask his weird parents if they were even going to show up.” 

Jack groans, “Please don’t tell me you phrased it that way to my dad?”

“Course not.” Gabriel waves a hand at him. 

Elena claps her hands together, “Alright boys. I have plans tonight, pools all yours. House is yours.”

“Aw.” Jack protests, leaning in on an elbow, “Was hoping to catch up.” 

She pats his cheek with a grin, “Plenty of time during the weekend, Jack. It’s poker night though and the girls are counting on me.”

“Yea yea.” Gabriel grins, “Is there food in the fridge?” 

Elena rolls her eyes, “Of course there is you great leech.” 

Gabriel slips out of his chair and beelines for the fridge, “Have fun then.”

Elena sends Jack a look before grabbing her car keys and heading out the front door. Jack watches Gabriel root around in the refrigerator, humming to himself. He sinks further into the bartop, head on his crossed arms as he listens to Gabe talk to himself and takes in the warm scent of a well-used home. 

“Want to nap,  _ cariño _ ?” Gabe’s warm hand cups the back of his neck.

Jack mumbles sleepily, “Not really. It’s already late. Swim?”

A thumb brushes down where his neck met his spine, “Sure.”

Jack follows Gabe into the spare bedroom, where they both change into their swimming trunks. He watches Gabe smooth a hand down his chest, eyeing the stark white scars against his skin in the vanity mirror. Jack can see the way he eyes the shirt he tossed on the bed and immediately slips up behind him. It effectively blocks him from turning around to grab the shirt and gives Jack the opportunity to wrap his arms around his waist. 

“It’s just you and me out there.” Jack mumbles into his shoulder. 

He can hear Gabe swallow, “I know, just-uh-.” 

“Not gonna force you to keep it off. Just remember what Winston said.” 

A soft, shaky inhale, “The scars don’t define me.”

Jack nods, mouths at the back of his shoulder blade and meets his eyes in the mirror, “Your nightmares are back again.” 

Gabe’s nod is barely there, but Jack knows him well enough by now. There’s a tense anxiety in his face, despite the brave grins and his usual ‘Gabeness’. Jack still knows. Jack can spot the stress on him from a mile away, can feel it sometimes too. 

“Still sleeping though.” 

“Restlessly.” Jack says, runs a hand down the length of Gabe’s chest, “You toss all night. You call out for me.” 

“Sorry.” Gabe mutters.

Jack clenches his eyes shut and buries his face in the back of Gabe’s neck, “Don’t apologize Gabe. I went into this knowing that it was a process.” 

“Still.” Gabe grunts, “Should be healed by now.”

“ _ Healed _ ?” Jack croaks, pulling away and yanking Gabriel around to face him, “Gabe, this doesn’t heal like a papercut.”

Gabe’s eyes close slowly, the line of his body hard and distant, “I can’t be good for you if I’m always taking two steps back.”

Jack shakes his shoulders, “Look at me.” 

Those dark eyes open slow, pained and Jack pulls Gabriel into a bone-crushing hug. His heart aches when those strong, calloused hands curl hesitantly around his back in return. Gabe’s body is warm, rough and broken from years of duty. Jack sinks into it, holds on as tight as he can.

“I want to marry you, Gabe.” 

A nervous chuckle, “I haven’t asked yet.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Jack replies, pressing his face into Gabe’s neck, “You already know I’m going to say yes.”

“Gonna be able to take all of me? Fucked up vet and all?” 

“ _ All _ of you, Gabriel.” Jack insists, lifting his head and cupping his hands around Gabe’s face, “All. Not half. Not just the good parts. The bad dreams, the panic attacks.” He drops his forehead against Gabe’s, “Everything about you I want to live with for the rest of my life.” 

“Okay.” Gabe’s voice is tight with emotion, and fuck it they’re probably both going to cry like a couple of pansies, but who cares. 

“Now.” Jack pulls away, but not before snagging a quick kiss, “Let’s swim and then crawl into that bed and sleep till Elena wakes us with breakfast burritos.” 

Gabe laughs and it lights up his face, “Sounds like a plan.” 

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


The water is cool and a welcome balm across his jetlagged as all hell body. Jack is doing laps around the pool, blonde hair slicked back and skin shining under the pool lights. They sky has long since gone dark and the only light around them are the hanging decorative bulbs over the back porch and the blue lights on either end of the pool. 

Gabe sinks onto one of the steps, head tipped back just enough that he can still watch Jack’s body slice through the water. It smells of chlorine and the sound of water lapping against the edge of the pool is putting him to sleep. 

A hand glides up his thigh and he realizes his eyes closed of their own accord. He cracks one open and Jack is grinning at him, all wet hair and blue eyes even bluer in contrast to the pool liner. 

He returns the grin, adjusts his arms on the concrete behind him, “Done exercising?” 

Jack hums and the sound vibrates deep in his chest and sends lust curling down into Gabe’s stomach. The blonde’s hands slip easy as anything up Gabe’s sides and over his pecs, hips parting his thighs so Jack can get between them. 

The kiss is wet, sloppy and Jack tastes like water. Gabe rumbles under it, fingers curling into the brick that edges the pool, dick stirring within his trunks. His hips rise, brushing against Jack’s and causing the blonde to hiss against his mouth, tongues tangling immediately after. 

Gabe isn’t ashamed of the moan that slips free. Jack’s laughter is soft on his cheek as he brushes wet kisses along his jawline and water drips from his hair onto Gabe’s face. Jack’s hips swivel tight against Gabe’s, both of their erections obvious through the bathing suits. Strong fingers dig into Gabe’s biceps and Jack returns to his mouth. The next kiss is harsher, needier and that’s Gabe’s fault. He presses into it, opens up under Jack’s assault and allows himself to be dominated. 

It’s nice to let go. 

He spends so much of his time in control. In control of his unit. In control of his PTSD, his emotions, his entire  _ life. _

And Jack-

Jack is-

Gabe pulls back, just a smidge and Jack protests with a soft whine, blue eyes cracking open in confusion. His chest seizes and realization blooms in its wake as he studies Jack’s concerned frown, the scrunched question in his eyebrows.

Gabe swallows down the nerves, moves one of his arms from the edge to wrap around Jack’s waist. Their hips meet again with little resistance and a bolt of arousal settles molten and hot at the base of his spine. 

“Gabe?” Jack’s voice is low, rough. 

“Wanna try something different?” Gabe asks, fingers flexing against Jack’s side. 

Jack glances around, “We’ve done this before.” He coughs, “Pool sex, I mean.” 

“No.” Gabe shakes his head, nods to the house, “We’re gonna do this in the bedroom.” 

“Okay.” Jack is still confused, “What is it?” 

Gabe grins and backs away from Jack, leading him out of the pool. Jack takes his hand as they drip all over the concrete, the wet sound of their feet following them to the back porch. Gabe hands Jack his towel and starts to dry off with his own, wringing out the rest of the water from his trunks. 

“I’m a little worried.” Jack says nervously as Gabe slides open the back door and allows Jack inside the house first. 

The key hook by the door is still empty, meaning his abuela was still out. Good. 

He pulls Jack towards their bedroom, the blondes lingering confusion visible on his handsome features. The blast of air conditioning on his still wet skin is a bit of a shock, but he quickly sheds his shorts and stands before Jack, dick at full attention. 

Jack’s eyes dart down between his legs and that full bottom lip gets caught between his teeth and Gabe is  _ lost _ . He darts forward, shoving Jack’s shorts down his legs and he’s damn near purring when Jack’s own cock gets airtime. Jack’s breathing hitches when Gabe stands back up, taking those hips between his hands and pulling their bodies flush. 

Gabe bites at the bottom of his jaw, tugs at the skin and leaves a red mark there, “I want you to fuck me this time.”

Jack sputters, “ _ What _ ? Are you sure?” 

Gabe smiles against Jack’s neck, bites down again and the blonde jumps, dick twitching between them. He guides them back until his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Jack’s hands are everywhere now, gliding down his arms, over his hips, then a warm hand is curling around his dick. Gabe nearly swallows his tongue, it’s been almost four days since Jack’s had a hand on him. His hips twitch into the hold and Jack strokes, slow and steady, thumb brushing over the tip. 

He wastes no time in pulling Jack on top of him, spreading his thighs so Jack can settle. Jack’s body is warm and heavy, pressing him down into the sheets. His hand stays wrapped around Gabe’s dick, but this time he can feels Jack’s own along for the ride. His stomach twists at the thought of Jack being inside him for the first time. Of giving up this one last form of control that he tries so hard to hold on to. 

“You okay?” Jack mumbles, thumb rubbing at the underside of his dick. 

Gabe nods, swallows, “Yep. Peachy. Just nervous.” 

Jack’s smile is gentle, “We don’t have to, you know. Not sure why you want this in the first place. I’m good with the bottom.”

Gabe shakes his head, squares his jaw, “No. I  _ need _ this.”

Jack seems to startle at that and a new sort of resolve crosses over his face. The hand around his dick tightens, twists deliciously and Gabe gasps, back bowing. His hands scramble for purchase at Jack’s hips and his legs open wider until there’s no space between their bodies. 

So it's a bit of a disappointment when Jack leans away and over the edge of the bed. Gabe can hear a zipper and plastic rustling around. He returns a few heartbeats later holding up a bottle of lube. Fire races down his spine at the sight of it and Jack sits back on his haunches, popping the bottle open and coating his fingers. 

The first press of a finger is easy. Gabe’s not a stranger to the feeling, it’s just been an exceptional amount of time since his last try. 

Jack’s patient, mouth open and hot against Gabe’s knee as he stretches him. Gabe watches from his spot at the head of the bed. Gone are the light, luminescent blue eyes from the pool. Jack’s eyes are dark now, nearly blown out as he watches three fingers glide in and out of Gabe’s hole. 

Gabe feels like he’s going to crawl out of his skin. Pleasure is skating over his nerves, his dick is throbbing between his legs, precum leaking down the sides. Jack’s fingers are big, but deft and quick. He pulls Gabe apart the same way he organizes bouquets. With an infuriatingly slow patience that ramps Gabe close to orgasm and then yanks him violently away from the edge. 

His toes dig into the sheets when the fingers spread, stretching him out just a little further. Jack groans into his thigh, eyes fluttering and Gabe can only imagine what he looks like down there. He knows what Jack looks like spread out on his hand, but this is all new to Jack. Gabe knows that feeling all too well. 

Gabe wiggles his hips, thrusts down against the hand, “I’m ready, Jack, come  _ on _ .”

“Impatient.” Jack grumbles, fingers slipping free. 

And  _ that’s _ an interesting sensation. Gabe’s spine shivers at how empty he feels with Jack’s fingers gone. Said fingers wrap around the insides of Gabe’s thighs, spreading them wide while Jack settles into position. 

Jack’s eyes meet his and Gabe can see the nerves, can see the last question in the lines around his mouth. 

“ _ Please. _ ” It comes out strangled. A little more emotional than Gabe intended, but it gets the point across. 

Jack presses forward and his cock is like a brand. It burns along his insides, despite the lube and the prep. Gabe hisses, eyes wide and hands trying to find purchase in the sheets. Jack’s groan is bone deep above him and his eyes are clenched shut, chest pumping. 

It’s overwhelming. 

Gabe can hardly breathe. He tightens when Jack’s hips press flush to his ass and the blonde lets out a strangled sort of sound. Warmth pools in Gabe’s belly and he smirks, does it again and the same sound comes out. 

Jack bites his knee, shakes his head, “You’re so  _ tight _ .” 

Gabe chuckles, “Well, you are my first.”

Jack’s dick kicks inside him and his hips stutter, hitting something that sends electricity across his skin. 

“Oh _ fuck _ .” Gabe snarls.

“You can’t  _ say _ shit like that, Gabe.” Jack groans, “ _ Goddamn. _ ”

Gabe growls, low and lethal and he shoves back down against Jack’s cock, trying to hit that spot again. It doesn’t quite make it, and he huffs in frustration, “ _ Move _ , Morrison.” 

Jack mirrors the growl and that pleasure-filled nervousness melts away in an instant. The change sends a thrill through Gabriel as Jack puts one hand behind his left thigh and shoves it damn near parallel with Gabe’s chest. His dick reaches deeper and Gabe moans, long and low at the feel of it. 

Jack lets out a wrung out laugh, “This isn’t going to last long.”

“Don’t care.” Gabriel isn’t any fucking better. He’s burning up all over and his dick is hard as rock between their stomachs. 

Jack pulls out and shoves back in, hard. 

Gabe shouts, his left hand slapping around his bent leg to hold it up. Jack slams in and out, sweat dripping down the sides of his face, eyes locked with Gabe’s. 

He’s never felt so goddamn free in his life. 

He doesn’t need to control the pace. He doesn't need to do the work. 

“Harder.” He hisses. 

Jack obeys without question, hips swiveling and slapping against his ass. He removes his hand from Gabe’s hip, guides the other leg around Jack’s waist. Gabe releases his other leg and lets it join its partner around Jack. 

Jack’s hips don’t slow down and the orgasm is  _ right there _ . Gabriel’s heart is thudding painfully, the back of his neck hot from the exertion. His hand seeks out Jack’s in the chaos, fingers curling together over Gabe’s heart as Jack hammers inside of him. 

“Come on, Jackie.” Gabriel rumbles and he hopes Jack can feel the rapid heart under their hands, how much Gabe appreciates everything Jack’s done for him. 

Jack is panting, face overwhelmed and open, his free hand wraps around Gabe’s dick between them. 

Gave doesn’t stand a chance. The orgasm blindsides him and he’s spurting over his belly before he can process the pleasure. Jack follows with a shout of his name, hips locked tight and dick pulsing inside him. 

His vision is blurry when he opens his eyes. Jack is heaving above him, their hands still intertwined on Gabe’s chest. They smell like chlorine and sweat and sex. 

Gabe lets out a rush of air, “Good job.” 

Jack laughs, drops his head onto their hands, “Try something new he says.”

“You’re welcome.” Gabe grins at the ceiling. 

Jack pulls out slowly, leaves the bed to get something to clean them up with. Gabe watches him, half-awake and tingling all over. Jack returns with a hand towel, wipes Gabe’s belly down with a soft smile on his face.

“What was the occasion?” Jack asks, fingers trailing after the towel to make sure he’d gotten everything.

Gabe hums, wants to pull Jack down for a kiss, but he’s too weak to lift his arms, “Didn’t want to be in control for once.” 

And just like that Jack does it for him. The kiss saying everything they need it to.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Jack wakes to the smell of eggs, bacon, asada. His stomach growls in happiness as the scent rouses him from slumber. He knows Gabe’s not in bed with him, not for a good few hours. A whispered ‘gonna help abuela’ against his ear and a kiss to his shoulder woke him the first time that morning. 

He rolls onto his back, stretches and enjoys the glorious after orgasm ache in his bones. They still have a whole weekend to enjoy themselves before they need to get back to the real world. To the flower shop and security meetings. 

Jack wonders if they should do this every year. Plan a trip to both of their family homes and just relax. 

His stomach growls again and Jack sighs. He doubts Gabe’s going to bring him breakfast in bed. 

Jack climbs out of bed, searches for a pair of pants to put on. Yawns as he walks to the adjoining bathroom to pee and freshen up. 

He’s tugging a t-shirt one when he steps into the living room. Gabe’s back is visible at the stove, Elena at the sink. The scent of breakfast is heavier in the air and Jack takes it in, eyes closed as he pads across the floor and feels his way to a seat. 

“Smells amazing.” Jack sighs happily, “Hope you made enough to feed an army.”

“With you two?” Elena throws her head back and laughs, “I’m always prepared to cook for 10.” 

Jack grins at her, chin in hand, “You’re the best.” 

She wiggles a spoon at him, “And don’t you forget it.” 

He turns his gaze to Gabriel, whose body is blocking whatever it is he’s doing at the stove. Jack waits, enjoying the defined outline of his boyfriend's back. He’s damn near daydreaming by the time Gabriel’s twisting on his bare heels, two plates in hand towering with burritos. 

“You are a  _ god _ .” Jack praises, hands outstretched to take his plate. 

Gabe shakes his head good-naturedly as he hands the plate over.  He sets his own across the counter and leans against it. 

“Don’t forget to put the flowers out.” Elena says from the stove as she fills up her own plate. 

Gabe’s smile falters, “ _ Abuela. _ ” 

“Flowers?” Jack grins around a mouthful of burrito, “You got me  _ flowers? _ ”

Gabe scrunches up his face, “Yes.” He turns to the fridge and opens it, blocking Jack’s view when he tries to turn his head to see. 

Jack shrugs and goes back to eating his breakfast, the explosion of authentic spices coating his tongue. Elena sets her plate next to Gabriel's, confusion on her face.

“They’re just flowers,  _ mijo _ . Jack works with them everyday.” She huffs, shaking her head. 

Jack snickers to himself, but stops when he notices that Gabe’s shut the fridge, but he hasn’t turned back to them. He sets his burrito down, frowns, “Gabe?” 

Gabe seems to take a deep breath, shoulders twitching as he turns around. Jack’s eyes lock onto the vase in his hands and don’t leave it, even after Gabe’s set them between their plates on the bar. 

There are two different flowers. Both white, but very,  _ very _ different. One long petaled, with a fountain for its middle. The others are rounded, softer, with a very small center lined in black. 

His heart leaps, shudders. 

Orange blossoms and violets. 

_ Take a chance on me. Eternal love. Marriage.  _

Jack reaches out, hand shaking as he runs the backs of his fingers along the vibrant green stems. He can feel Elena and Gabe’s eyes on him. 

Gabe’s gaze  _ burns _ though. 

“Now?” Jack whispers.

“Surprise.” Gabe replies, soft between them. 

Jack glances up over the flowers at him. Gabe looks so nervous, standing there next to his tiny grandmother, in her little kitchen. It smells like burritos and clove. 

Jack’s going to remember this moment for the rest of his life.

“ _ Yes _ .”

  
  


**End**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's getting married. Everyone. 
> 
> So plans for this verse will hopefully include a Genyatta part and a Pharmercy part. Fingers crossed. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I didn't want to put too much angst in it, because I wanted this to be fun, but at the same time highlight the aspects of life that linger into longer relationships. 
> 
> So thank you all of for you continued support, comments, and kudos. I'm so glad I was able to come back to this fic and give you just a little slice of life.


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